Early Morning Rain

LETJOG E2W – Day 2: Monday 15 April – BECCLES to BUNGAY (11.2 miles)

My path took me into East Anglian farming country today

April showers and gusty winds have certainly been the order of today, although thankfully I missed the most prolonged outburst as I sat watching the slanting tracks of rain on the train window en route from Colchester back up to Beccles this morning. Alighting at Beccles station in sunshine, at the point where I finished the last leg of my LETJOG E2W ramble yesterday afternoon, I was within minutes seeking refuge in the porch of the town’s church, as a stinging, but thankfully brief, hailstorm blew in. And so it continued all day: alternating rain showers, hail, and sunny spells that lit the landscape and provided sufficient intervals for a few photos.

A drift of cherry blossom

So after another fine evening yesterday, with Rachel and her mother Ann, in Langham (and another good breakfast this morning!) I said my goodbyes, first to Ann, and then to Rachel at Colchester station, as she returned to home and to work. I am on my own for a few days now, with just my rucksack and poles, and the outdoors, for company, until I travel back home for a rest day next week.

Staying in the Waveney Valley, south of the river and in Suffolk for the most part, this short-ish day walk took me from Beccles westward over fields and marshes, down tracks and lanes, and with a brief northerly diversion across the river and into Norfolk, before reaching Bungay for a short walking tour

Funnily enough I was in Beccles just last month with my parents, visiting some old family friends, so I have some passing acquaintance with the town. A settlement here was first founded by the monks of Bury, who built a monastery by the River Waveney in the tenth century: the town later became established as a river port and as a popular boating centre, these days almost entirely for leisure craft. Anyway, here are a few photos of my day.

Beccles church, in whose doorway I cowered as the hailstorm passed
Out of town past the boatyards . . .
. . . and into the fields
Along grassy tracks . . .
. . . where, for much of the time, I had expansive marshes to my right . . .
. . . and arable land to my left (and, here, even a hill)!
A clump of bluebells by the path
Occasional livestock . . .
. . . with this herd seeking safety in numbers as I passed by cautiously
Whatever next? The point where the green lane became a (very) minor road
A northerly detour took me over the Waveney and, for a short while, just across the border and into Norfolk
Arriving into Bungay I was greeted by sunshine and by colour . . .
. . . before another hailstorm, whereupon I took cover for ten minutes with a dozen others, under the town’s Butter Cross market building (upon which the statue of Justice stands as a symbol to ensure fair trade)
No need for a moat, the railings are enough to stop marauders such as I from entering the 12th Century Bigod Castle . . .
. . . but Bungay church was more welcoming, as I sought shelter from yet another downpour

So it has been a rather varied and eventful ramble for such a relatively short walking day of not much more than four hours – more amble than ramble really – as I get into the stride of my LETJOG E2W challenge. My first long day follows tomorrow!

I have been on the lookout for a Suffolk Punch, but apparently this breed of dray horse is quite rare nowadays: I think I missed with this one, as I have been told by a local that ‘they’re always chestnut in colour’ – I will keep looking!

‘Early Morning Rain’ is a super composition by Gordon Lightfoot that has been begging inclusion on my Blog playlist, and as one of my Blog headings, for some time. So naturally I am delighted that the weather obliged today, enabling me to utilise the title! Canada’s legendary singer-songwriter Lightfoot wrote the song in 1964, although it was not released until two years later on his eponymous debut album. The lyrics conclude with the words ‘So, I’d best be on my way, in the early morning rain’. Very apt.

Red sky at night . . .

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