Today was the first real frost of the year, topped off by wall-to wall blue sky and sparkling Autumn sunshine. It would have been simply impossible not to go for a long walk.
I donned much-needed gloves and scarf and took the path to Homey Bridge, down the stony track towards the river Box. At this time of year, this track is lined with hundreds of fungi which I long to be able to identify.
The river is running quite fast again after all the recent rain, carrying an ever-growing cargo of falling leaves. The road beyond the river was filled with misty sunlight filtering through the oak branches, a trick of the angle making a perfectly circular tunnel to walk through.
Past the Mill House and left along the Stoke road, I took the path between the houses on the right and waded ankle-deep in frosty grasses up the steep field to the kissing-gate in the top right-hand corner. The view across the valley to Stoke-by-Nayland was magical this morning.
The strange, coral-like fungi I found in the wood at the top of Marten's Lane have lost their pale yellow-white colour and turned muddy with the rain, but others are springing up to replace them. The leaves on the field maples and beeches have now fully turned, putting on a glittering overhead display of brass and copper. A late red admiral butterfly added a flash of scarlet and black.
At the junction with the Stoke road, I took the path across the field into the Withermarsh Green road and turned left towards the cottages on the green. The by-way opposite the green leads, eventually, to a track on the left called Snow Hill Lane. The entrance to it, hidden in the hedge, is almost impossible to find if you don't know it's there, as the sign has long been lost among the undergrowth. However, it's worth finding, as it's one of my favourite paths in the area. It feels totally remote from roads as it winds down into the valley, the trees on either side opening out occasionally to allow wide vistas from this elevated position.
At the bottom of the valley, the path meets the main road from Stoke by Nayland to Higham. This narrow country lane is extremely busy and I was glad only to have to walk along it for about 100 metres before taking Langham Mill Lane, a signposted track off to the right between hedges along the side of two arable fields. There is a right-angled turn to the right (where I once suddenly encountered a very large, black bull, apparently standing on the footpath, the wrong side of a gate which was supposed to enclose him - I beat a hasty retreat before checking the details). Another right-angle turn to the left then takes you through a flat field and down to a footbridge over a minor stream of the river Stour. After crossing the footbridge and following an overgrown path, you come to the much larger bridge over the main stream of the river. Despite some of the mature willow trees having been felled recently, this is still a rather magical spot. Now, in the autumn, the brilliant blue and green dragonflies which filled the air here in August have gone, but in their place is a stillness which magnifies the calls of the many birds and encourages the walker to stand, listen and enjoy the moment.
After the bridge, I took the road past the water pumping station and an incongruous row of 1920s terraced houses, a little piece of Surrey suburbia in the middle of nowhere, originally built to house the workers of the Water Board. Usually I turn right at the end of this road and follow it back to Boxted Mill, but today, tempted by a longer walk in the lovely weather, I continued to the left, then right through the hedge and across the field, past an elevated reservoir, across the small road towards Langham, and along the side of the garden of a very pretty, isolated farm house. There is a path off to the left here, which I have never explored, but I followed the route of the Essex Way back on to the road, which has the intriguing name of Sky Hall Hill.
There is an ancient dead tree on this road which contains a thousand faces, pictures and carvings. It seems impossible that a structure of such complexity could appear without any help from a human hand. From some angles, it looks like the Winged Victory, from others like the terrifying prow of a fantastic vessel from ancient history. There are the faces of the Green Man, the beaks of weird birds of prey, wings spread ready to swoop, snakes, lizards, foxes...you might see many more.
The road leads to a triangular junction. Here, the path goes off to the right behind a hedge towards the farmyard of Rivers Hall. If you can find your way through the farm buildings, you eventually come to a sign which sends you down the long, tree-lined drive of the Hall. This is the official route of the Essex Way, but it feels like a bit of an intrusion into a private landscape. At some point in the past, probably in Victorian times, a conifer enthusiast must have lived in Rivers Hall, as there are extensive plantations of pines and firs of all sorts, some of which have grown to enormous height. It feels very unlike the rest of the countryside, more like a Russian forest than Suffolk farmland, but the contrast makes this route all the more enjoyable.
No bears, wolves, lynx or moose appeared today, luckily, so I continued to follow the track down the hill and into a deep valley, where there is another surprise. A large lake opens out unexpectedly on either side of the track.
At the end of the track/driveway, you rejoin the Boxted road, once past the old lodge cottage on the left, which displays, to the accompaniment of furious barking from many dogs, a charming message that trespassers will be shot and the survivors prosecuted. Someone seems to think it's a good joke. At least, I hope so.
I followed the road to the left towards Boxted church. If Boxted village had a centre (like many Suffolk "villages", it spreads over a surprisingly large area and seems to have no real focus), it would probably be here, in the collection of rather lovely houses, big and small, clustered around the squat Norman tower of St Peter's church. There is a tiny window half way up the tower, which always attracts my attention. It somehow looks as though a face will appear in it at any moment. Not today, though - the tower was clad in scaffolding.
On down the track back on to the Boxted road, I made an attempt to follow the path through Boxted Hall, the official route of the Essex Way, but as there seemed to be much activity in the equestrian centre, neighing of horses and barking of dogs, I took the simpler route along the road and right towards Nayland. The steepest part of this road is called Burnt Dick Hill. I've often wondered who its apparently unfortunate namesake was.
Following the path through the trees to the right after Littlegarth School, I came across an official notice saying that the bridge over the river Stour at Nayland was closed and that there was an alternative route. However, the sketch plan was unclear and as there was nothing apparently stopping walkers taking the steps up to the big footbridge at the other side of the field, I assumed that it was safe and that the notice related to one of the other routes across the river. The bridge stayed in one piece as I crossed it, so I hope it will do the same for others.
Arriving in Nayland, I was tempted by the Anchor Inn, but decided to continue through the village, which was particularly attractive in the autumn sunshine.
It was a long climb up steep Gravel Hill today, as by this time I had been walking for over 4 hours, non-stop. This is one of the most hilly roads in the area - up out of Nayland, down into the valley by Poplars Farm House, then up the equally steep hill towards the main Stoke by Nayland Road. Across the main road and down again, along Stoke Tye road, past Stoke Priory and its mushroom-filled woodland, back to Homey Bridge.
All that stood between me and a much-needed lunch now was another climb back up the hill to the Polstead Road.
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