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A bright, clear dawn greeted the new day and the new year – a good time to go out, see what the new year is like, and if we approve of it.  The New Year’s walk is a keen tradition and, if subdued this year as the ‘flu subsides, the fresh air does a world of good.  And yes, we approve of this new year.

At the same time, a new project is beginning, and I took tentative steps to start it:  a Hertfordshire Border Walk has been on the cards.  The start of the path will run from outside Chorleywood station, on the county boundary, and then out across Chorleywood Common, and on to the River Chess, so that is where we went (well, the Rickmansworth Aquadrome was stuffed to bursting with runners – good for them, but not so good for our having a quiet, solitary walk).  Scouting out routes takes only so much time, until I return in earnest; otherwise it is about letting the children go haring about in the woods and the meadows, breathing  in the joys of the new year. This is a promising start to a new year, and new endeavours to come.

A happy new year to all.

And so we begin the Christmas break, well earned and welcomed.  Time to stretch and breathe and to recognise all our blessings, which we might not have seen in the welter of the working week, but stop and listen.  Hear the hymns and carols and the sermon, however familiar, that might bring forgotten truths to mind.  Then step outside into raw nature, where wild creation is untampered with, and feel and hear the wind in the mountains and the trees singing creation’s own praise to its creator.

In the outdoor world you do not get away from Christmas – only from the commercial encrustations.  In the lane, in the wood or on the hill, you are sharing a sky with a couple who once threaded their way through the Judaean hills towards the town where an ancestor, a shepherd-king, guarded his flocks from lions beneath the open canopy of heaven, hiking through villages and through empty, desert places, stopping at night in tents around a bare fire built somehow in a treeless land, turning the warmth of the city behind them to find a hilltop town.  Later they would flee through the wild desert from the wrath of a city-dwelling king.  Christmas is all about the outdoor life.

For a week or so even for those town-bound, desk-bound salary-workers, the time is yours to turn your eyes up and explore the world about you.  Take to the fields and to the hills:  find the beauty that lies just beyond your vision.  At the end of the road there may be that perfect country pub, and there may the logs burn bright and the steak and ale pie be piping hot.

A merry and a blessed Christmas to one and all.

In Blaby today, at a meeting of the Association of British Counties, which I am always happy to help.  I am presenting a number of projects; some hosted or planned on WildþingUK are hosted for the ABC and some of their new projects on footpath signage and mapping are of particular interest.  Well, that and the fact that I am the Vice-Chairman.

It’s a cheering gathering from across the land, all with a love of our places, and in particular our counties:  Yorkshire and Lancashire prominent as ever: the achievement of the Friends of Real Lancashire and of the Yorkshire Ridings Society over the years are shown in the local events they organise, the boundary signs around the county boundaries, the proliferation of rose-bearing flags and the strengthening of local identity in the face of official indifference.  We could spend all our time admiring the achievements of the Association too, but there is more to be done:  boundary signs, more resources for the public, and public engagement.  I will do what little I can.

County flags are popular now:  I look forward to seeing the result of the current competitions to design flags for some of my favourite shires:  Berwickshire, Sutherland and East Lothian, with Herefordshire’s bull charging up close behind.

Now to grab a sandwich, then it’s down to discussing footpath signage, ruby and Lancashire paths.

It is an interesting little place Last time I was here in Blaby, I finished the day by climbing Leicestershire’s county top, Bardon Hill, but it will be getting dark early, it is raining hard and much as I love the Leicestershire countryside (“Tally-ho!”) I have things to do tonight, M1 permitting.