I'm not sure the A19 was a good choice. After the low Gregorian hum of the chain saw in the woods behind Mount Grace where the remembered steepness of the path is what put off my return, it certainly was noisy. But I was committed now and sticking my orange hat on one of my poles (figuring it better to avoid getting run down immediately than the longer term effects of the sun at this point) I set off along the narrow edge strip reserved for the poor.
My footpath was up a steep bank, then it was alongside a wheatfield where I could have gleaned some ears had I any use for them. After that the highest stile on the walk so far. I took my backpack off and heaved it over, not wanting to overbalance at the top of this precarious piece of field furniture. I was rewarded with butterfly corner. The best tally of the day amongst thistles and rose bay willow: numerous whites, some common heaths, a peacock and the prize the day, a painted lady, full of grace.
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