R*n 696: Claylands

The best aspect of running in the dark is the heightened sense of smell and hearing.

We ran through musty woods, across fields of damp earth, alongside the still, humid canal, through farmland spread with muck, past barns reeking of silage. We listened to birds tweeting goodnight, to the gently flowing river, the squelch of shiggy and to the frequent thunderous roar of passing trains.

It was a decent, dry evening with a whisper of a breeze at just the right temperature.

Sadly, the promised Supermoon was a no show. But this was more than compensated for by a visit from Late Cummer and Chapped Lips all the way from Australia and also a visit by Spunky, formerly known as the Gobbler, aka Spunky Gobbler (too much information) all the way from Turkey.

Chris, a visitor and orienteer seemed baffled by the ritual of the circle. Will he ever return?

Bubbles received a Down Down for fouling the trail. What is the world coming to?

It was a lovely evening finished off with a meal at the Stepping Stones bar,

Thank you to the hares.

Morticia