The Road Not Taken

We've had an awful lot of rain this week, which means that I've been stuck in the house rather too much. However, Sunday was not only drier but much milder too. In afternoon I went for a walk in the forest with three friends and three dogs. I did wish that I'd taken my camera. The photo above was taken last August, in an enclosure called Bolderwood, when there were leaves on the trees and the sun shone. It was really muddy and we sludged and squelched through the grass before coming to a shallow stream. It would normally have been easy to cross but the recent heavy rain wasn't helped by the fact that this part of the forest is frequented by riders on horseback. Two of my friends carried the third, a very game lady in her eighties, who wasn't wearing wellies. I was only wearing wellies (generally I prefer to ruin shoes) because I'd borrowed a pair from the owner of the dogs. I would love to have been able to post a photo of a springer spaniel bathing in a pool of mud. It's the photo rather than the road not taken. Unlike Robert Frost, I didn't stand at the fork in the road and decide which path to take, I simply regretted not doing something but and here I was like him, there was no way that I could go back couldn't go back and take the walk again - the moment was gone forever.