Sunday March 19th 1933

Tried to forget my troubles, today. After dinner, met the H.F. Ramblers, at Croos – Cliff Hill. Eight of us – four girls. Soon made friends. The flooded Witham. A bleak landscape. Heavy rainstorm. A friendly barn. Tea in the draughty barn. The farmer kindly gave us a pot of hot tea. The rain stopped. Sunshine. The floods barred our way along the river. Uphill towards Waddington. A watery view. The sheep with the broken leg. A girl and I stood by it in the cold bleak twilight.

Back to the farm to report the cripple. We left it on some straw. Gone along the road in the darkness. Bus into Lincoln. Arrived at 8 o’clock. Left my rucksack and cape and set out again, clad in a mac now. Caught the bus. Sudbrooke Park, dark roads – hedges – telegraph poles. Left the bus at a cross roads and walked. Darkness, silence, mud. Needed my flash light and thumb stick constantly. Drear woods and dark waters. The Place. Dripping leaves and an overcast sky. I sat on a fallen tree, thinking for a while. Then – into the wood. At the Stones…..Vigil….. Outside the wood, the sky now showed many stars. “….the coming night is full of stars….”

Through mud and darkness to the road again. I hurried, for it was late, and caught the 10.35 bus at the boundry. Home. Tired peace found me. “My friends the sea, the sky, the sun, the winds, the woods, the clouds, the trees; How feebly, if my youth were done, Could I, and old man, relish these!”