The next morning was cold, but a wonderful sunrise brought with it a new beginning.
It was cold enough for me to get the burner going. I had my usual cup of tea and herbal concoction while I soaked up the morning Sun.
By lunchtime I was all tacked down and ready to continue on. However, no Rowan about. I called for a while. Nothing. I then turned around to head back indoors and there on the doorstep was Rowan.
A short drive further on we came to the Royal Military Canal. To the left is a little lane called Tar Pot Lane with a verge long enough for me to get in.
The lane follows the route of the canal.
Over the bridge is the village of Bilsington.
The wind and rain came in later. Rowan only did a quick out and in. Overnight, the weather improved and Rowan went out for a mouse meal. The next morning, Rowan was still out. She was out all day! I went up the lane looking for her. The farmer opposite said that he hadn’t seen her. Night-time fell. Still no sign! I decided to have another wander towards the farm. No joy. Then, as I was crossing the road back to my caravan, who should come trotting across the bridge but Rowan. She had been on the opposite bank to the farm. No doubt attracted by the number of rodents living by the water’s edge. It must’ve been good hunting. She went straight back out again, even though it was raining!
The next morning, Rowan was home. It was still raining. I needed to get to a shop, though, so I tacked down, and with Rowan on board, backed off of the verge, across the road and into the farm drive. I then turned over the bridge and on through the village.
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