We took a picnic up into the Clent Hills on Saturday. It might not have been the best ever ever weather for a picnic, but if you’re English and you wait for perfect weather for a picnic you’re certain to be very hungry. As we drove up from home the rain splattered the windscreen and rivulets of water scattered in the wake of the wipers.
We arrived not exactly under blue skies, but under dry ones; with just the hint of sunshine amid the menace of the clouds. And so while it may have only been 11.45, we picnicked.
We didn’t have much time for exploring, it was literally just a picnic stop, so we left the paths that head from the car park up to the top of the hill for another adventure and set out sights on the Picnic and Play, a little fenced in area with a dogs on leads policy that helps my three relax (they are not dog people in any shape or form). And so we sat and ate, and tried to take a selfie with all of us in it, and my Dad told us how my Mum had told him about tobogganing down the Clent Hills in the winter as a child, and how she’d grown up not that far from where we were standing (she’d moved away and some before she met Dad so my associations are more with Bristol and Australia)
The picnic over we set off to explore the path into the play woods. We could see glimpses through the trees while we ate but the reality was even better than the promise; a high platform surrounding one tree, lots and lots of tree stumps to jump between where they had been felling to clear a little space, spare boughs lying around to make bivvys, a little house, logs to jumps over and, of particular delight to my little man, some seriously squelchy mud. We all loved it.
The three of them ran circles around the tree until I was certain they must have been falling over dizzy, and then started jumping from log to log in a remarkably straight line, though with a little help from Grandpa. Anything that Kitty could do, Elma wanted to do, and anything his sisters could do, Pip saw no reason why he should not do likewise.
When the stray drips dribbling through the canopy revealed that the rain had returned the girls were content enough to go back to the car on the promise that we could come again some day, but my little wild boy was very unimpressed at being taken away from all things muddy and protested at volume.
It wasn’t an idle promise to the girls though, it’s a lovely little wood to explore, and the hills themselves hold even more promise. And watching all three play together and copy each other reminded me again how near we are to coming out of the baby days; we have three muddy little explorers, out to conquer the world together, and if the realisation that my baby is almost all little boy is hard to remember at times, the pay off is seeing the three of them together as a proper unit;
Two little sisters, and their brother too, in June:
Do go and say hi to my lovely cohosts; Lucy at Dear Beautiful, Katie at Mummy Daddy Me, Amber at Goblin Child, Annie at Fable & Folk and Keri-Anne at Gingerlilly Tea; and to show us your sibling photos just link up below or come and play on Instagram under the #siblingsproject and tag @siblings_project_