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 "Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it." Soren Kierkegaard

I had found myself in an uncomfortable place. Maudlin and retrospective what with the impending first anniversary of my sister's passing; saddened at the recent loss of several of the birding community; still trying to shake off the effects of a virus that manifested itself back in mid-December; unable to inject some oomph into everyday life. No doubt that the recent largely grey and wet weather had not helped at all in my seeking out some sunny uplands. Yesterday I decided that, seeing as retail therapy does nothing for me, some walking therapy would do instead. At 06.30hrs I left the house with a vague route in mind, ignored the chilly and blustery westerly wind, put my best foot forward... and repeated this act 55,272 times. When I returned home almost 12 hours later I had walked 33km. 

Why did I do it? I did ask myself that. There was, without doubt, a respectful two-fingered salute to illness and ageing. Having come through two different cancer diagnoses almost 30 years ago I was given a third (prostate) last August - fortunately an early capture, with just frequent blood tests to keep an eye on it. My ongoing virus had made me - for the first time - feel my 67 years. Therefore my physical confidence had taken a knock. And when those around us leave for good... well, it shakes you up. I have never taken for granted that I am able-bodied; relatively healthy; not destitute; live in a free country that is not torn apart by conflict. We may well have reasons to have a good moan now and then but to be relatively well-off in 21st century Britain is to be dealt a good hand from the deck of ‘life cards’. So part of the reason for the walk was to remind myself of the positives. But as I was also going to be birding while undertaking this ramble the positives were in danger of being met by a few negatives!

Most of my route was through a benign and tamed landscape, National Trust pretty, aspirational houses with car showroom driveways, horse paddocks and gallops, large fields of winter wheat or fallow grass - not conducive to delivering an ornithological experience. It was not until I hit the ridge of the North Downs and descended the slippery scarp slope that I could hope for a bit of birding action. It was largely missing even here. Even the wooded hills around Box Hill and Mickleham, normally shoe-ins for Goshawk, Firecrest, Marsh Tit and Hawfinch failed on all counts. Highlights? It won't take long - 9 Red Kite, 27 Common Buzzard, four displaying Lapwings, a Snipe, 25 singing Skylarks, 2 Stonechats, three Blackcap, four Chiffchaff, a flock of c125 mixed finches (mainly Chaffinch with 5 Brambling and a few Linnets) and a Yellowhammer. The finch flock was the only sizeable passerine flock that I saw all day. The largely empty and silent hedgerows, fields, woods and skies were undoubtably an unwelcome feature. 

Regardless of the parlous state of our birdlife (an oft repeated subject on this blog) my day was not going to be derailed by it. My reason for being out here was different than the usual. I looked beyond the wildlife, taking in the patterns formed by the farmer's crops, church towers, appreciating the old industrial footprint (such as Betchworth's lime kiln in the photograph above), spent more time talking to those I happened to randomly cross paths with (which included one fascinating history lesson on the regions land ownership and buildings) and the magnificent bacon baguette from Buckland Deli. I could feel myself becoming lighter. By late afternoon I had started to walk directly into the light of the setting sun (it had finally come out by lunchtime) and although I won't say that I gave up on the birding it had become secondary. My tread was metronomic, my thoughts benign and calmed. Yes, my mind did wander back to the less pleasant things that had been colouring it recently, but with a wistfulness crossed with appreciation - semi-positive even. 

Did the walk work? I think so. If you are out there (regardless of whether you are looking for birds, plants or insects) then your mind is not dealing with domestic chores and the admin of life. There is the opportunity to let go and, if you are in a relatively good place, appreciate what there is. And that is something that is far too easy to forget as I often do.