Gentleman of the road.

 

On Tuesday evening while walking the dog we came across an old green lane, never tarmaced and with no tractor ruts and so we took an inquisitive detour along it.  For the first mile or so it was normally wide for green lanes, but then diminished to little more than a cart track altho footing remained solid and even.  We passed parcels of ancient broadleaf woodland and several hidden ponds among the fields alongside the lane and the huge trees edging the roadway were all very old coppice.  Rabbits scuttling everywhere and a wide range of birdsong and hedgrow flowers made it a very 'Disney' experience. 

 

Then as we rounded a bend we saw in the distance what looked like a blue tarpaulin covering something butted up against the hedgerow and getting nearer we could see a heat haze and wisps of smoke rising up.  It was a bender, made from branches bent over and covered to provide a shelter - a sort of homemade tent, with a small fire in front of the opening.  There sat a much bewhiskered old fashioned tramp-by-choice having a cup of tea and reading a book. 

My dog ran over to him and as so often with dogs and strangers, she broke the ice and we exchanged a few words.  This tramp told us he'd lived in the lane all last summer and planned to stay all this summer too.  We were the first people he'd seen on the path.  He said he spent his days walking in quiet places and watching wildlife, reading and thinking and was absolutely content with his chosen life.  He ate very little, cheap tinned fish, a baked potato from his fire, the occasional rabbit and wanted for nothing more.

 

He's the first real tramp of the old fashioned sort that I've seen for many a long year, altho when I was a child most people seemed to know at least one.  I wish now that I'd asked him why he thinks that is.

Tags: tramp, green lanes