With lots to do ahead of the coming Easter break I didn’t really have time to go too far on my dog walks over the weekend so my Monday walk this week is just a local one round Belmont village, only three miles up the road from home. Leaving the van outside my friend’s house in a quiet square at the bottom end of the village I first headed off across the main road and up the hill past the Black Dog pub. The pub has two signs outside, one at the car park entrance and the other on the side wall of the pub itself and strangely they are both very different ; the one on the wall is a mosaic picture and reminds me very much of a dog my friend once had.
Past the church I came to Ward’s Reservoir, though it’s always been known locally as the Blue Lagoon. The reservoir was built in the 19th century to supply water to the bleach and dye works down the hill, though over the years it’s become a well known local beauty spot. The Belmont Bleaching and Dyeing Company opened in 1878 and for many years was one of the country’s major dyers and cotton bleaching specialists, then in much later years it became one of the few companies in the UK capable of manufacturing a range of flame-retardant textiles.
The company finally closed down in 2004 with the buildings eventually being split into individual industrial and commercial units, though the reservoir and land around it began falling into disrepair. An independent study and report concluded that it needed at least £40,000 spending on it to bring it up to the standard legally required by the Environment Agency but the owner, a local man, was unwilling to spend money on something which no longer had any commercial value, so in 2010 he ‘pulled the plug’ and the reservoir was drained. It was eventually sold to a local consortium based a few miles away, repairs were undertaken and it was allowed to fill up again although every so often, especially after periods of heavy rain, a certain amount of water is released to prevent it becoming too full.
From the Blue Lagoon I headed across the nearby playing field and through a couple of pleasant residential streets to the top end of the village and the larger Belmont Reservoir. Built in 1826 by Bolton Waterworks to supply water to the rapidly expanding town it’s now owned by United Utilities, and not only is it home to Bolton Sailing Club it’s also an important base for wintering wildfowl. It’s not often that I see anyone sailing when I’m walking near there but this time the dinghies were out in force in spite of the very chilly wind which was blowing.
Across the dam and along the traffic-free lane I decided that instead of walking all the way along to the top of the road which would take me back to the village I would make a short cut down a public footpath past a small farm, and I was glad I did as I was rewarded with seeing a field full of sheep with their young ones.
The path eventually brought me out about halfway down the road back to the village ; it’s not an easy road to walk, especially with two dogs, as it’s narrow with no pavements and is a very popular short cut for traffic going to and from Belmont and another area of the town, but fortunately it wasn’t busy and I didn’t have to walk too far before it widened out by the former bleach works buildings. Ages ago I was told by someone – and I can’t remember who – that round the back of those buildings was a fishing place called Ornamental Lake ; it was one of those places that you wouldn’t know was there unless someone told you about it so I decided to check it out and was quite pleasantly surprised.
Eagley Brook, a combination of the outflow from Belmont Reservoir and the Blue Lagoon, flowed under the road and behind the buildings, emptying into the lake. Across a short bridge a path ran through the trees near the edge of the lake and in a clearing I came across a couple of small timber shacks, obviously for the use of anyone fishing there. Looking at the land it was obvious that I couldn’t walk all the way round the lake so I just snapped a few photos then made my way back to the road.
A short traffic-free lane took me steeply uphill to where I’d left the van and my last photo was of the water monument at the corner of the square. Erected in 1907 by Edward Deakin, mill owner and patron of the local church, it was to commemorate a clause having been successfully fought for in the UK parliament and inserted into the Bolton Corporation Act of 1905 to protect the flow of water into Eagley Brook from Belmont Reservoir.
Eagley Brook, along with water from the Blue Lagoon, provided an essential water supply to the bleach and dye works and there was a danger that taking too much water from Belmont Reservoir to supply Bolton’s homes and businesses would have a detrimental affect on the business and employment at the bleach works. The clause on the monument states that as compensation for taking water for Bolton the Corporation had to ensure a continuous flow down Eagley Brook between 5am and 5pm every day except Sunday, Good Friday and Christmas Day.
With that final photo I returned to the van and headed for home for a much needed brew ; although the sun had been shining for most of the walk the wind definitely had the chill factor so a mug of hot coffee was most welcome. There’ll be no Monday walk next week as I won’t be here – I’m off exploring pastures new so fingers crossed that the weather will be good and I’ll come back with lots of different places to write about.
This week’s Monday walk features a place I was never aware of until someone at work told me about it just a few days ago. Yesterday was the first of Michael’s days off work and though the morning started off rather dull it had brightened up considerably by early lunchtime so we decided to drive over to the coast for a mooch and a meal. Leaving the van in the car park of our usual cafe at St. Annes we went for a coffee first then Michael went off to mooch round on his own while I took Sophie and Poppie on my discovery walk.
Ashton Gardens are located just a couple of streets behind the promenade and right on the edge of the town centre. Originally a rectangular plot of land the gardens were established in 1874 by the Land and Building Company and were named St. Georges Gardens ; they remained unchanged until 1914 when Lord Ashton gave a donation to acquire the gardens and an adjacent strip of land for the people of St. Annes. Later that year the council ran a competition to redesign the gardens, it was won by a local man and the gardens were redesigned to incorporate a greater diversity of spaces, although the original undulating nature of the land was retained. Renamed Ashton Gardens in honour of Lord Ashton they were formally opened on July 1st 1916 ; in 2010 a major refurbishment was undertaken thanks to a grant of almost £1.5 million from the Heritage Lottery Fund plus additional funding from other sources.
My walk started at the main entrance closest to the town centre and right from the start I found something to photograph. Turning right just inside the gates a short path and a few stone steps took me down to a couple of bowling greens where various games of bowls were in progress, then beyond the second green and down a few more steps I came to what appeared to be a rose garden. Although nothing was actually in flower I can imagine it would be really lovely when everything is blooming.
Beyond the rose garden, and lying in undulating ground, were two ponds connected by a narrow meandering waterway which was crossed at various points by stepping stones and a hump-back bridge, and sitting on top of a small island of rocks in the middle of the smaller pond was a young seagull who obligingly stayed put while I took his photo. Even with the still-bare trees this place was delightful and I got far too many photos to put them all on here.
Back towards the centre of the park was a circular sunken garden, and though some of the flower beds were still bare or very sparsely planted the others were full of deep purple hyacinths which gave off the most gorgeous perfume. In the centre of the wide main pathway was the war memorial – and it was so impressive and so movingly detailed that it really deserves a post of its own. At the end of the pathway I came to the second main entrance with its fancy double gates and with a final shot of the modern crest set in one of the gates I left Ashton Gardens and made my way to meet Michael back at the cafe.
Across the road from the entrance to the gardens some building work was in progress on a large corner plot ; according to the hoarding all round it the new building was going to be an apart-hotel and pictures showed some of the intended facilities. I couldn’t tell if the place will be dog friendly but one of the pictures showed an adorable little dog snuggled in some bedding – it reminded me very much of a little dog I once looked after on a regular basis, and it looked so cute I just had to get a photo of it.
Back on the sea front I made my way through the promenade gardens and round by the beach huts to the cafe where Michael was waiting for me at an outside table. Of course no visit to St. Annes would be complete without a walk on the beach so once we’d had our meal we took a short walk along the sand before returning to the van and making our way back home.
It had been a lovely afternoon out and I’d been very impressed with Ashton Gardens ; I was really glad the guy at work had told me about the place as otherwise I wouldn’t have known about it, but now I do know I’ll make sure to pay a return visit for some more photos when the leaves are on the trees and hopefully the flower beds will be planted up. And if anyone reading this is ever in that area then do go and have a look round, it’s a lovely little place.
My Monday walk this week is an exploration of a large local Victorian park right on the edge of the town centre, a park which I haven’t been to for over 40 years. I remember my parents taking me there when I was a child – with nothing but acres of green space, a duck pond and a rather rubbish playground tucked in the bottom corner I thought it was the most boring of all the local parks. Fast forward to 1977 and when I worked at the far side of town I would often walk home through the park although I didn’t take much notice of my surroundings and have never been there since, but with a grant of over £4 million from the Heritage Lottery Fund in 2009 the place has undergone several improvements over the last few years so on a recent lovely sunny morning I took the dogs and went to check it out.
Queen’s Park, an area of roughly 22 acres, was created on pasture land purchased from the Earl of Bradford, and lies on sloping ground just out of the town centre. Originally called Bolton Park it was opened in 1866 by the Earl of Bradford himself, then in 1897 it was renamed in honour of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee. Features included an ornate bandstand surrounded by water and flower beds and with amphitheatre-style terraces for seating, a pavilion building, an ornamental fountain, a large paddling pool and the Chadwick Museum which opened in 1884. The bandstand and its lake, the pavilion and the fountain were all gone long before I was born, the paddling pool disappeared not long afterwards and the museum was demolished in 1957 after the exhibits were transferred to the new town centre museum in the main library building – maybe if these things had still been there when I was a child I would have found the park a lot more interesting than I did at the time.
The park does have a couple of claims to fame though – in 1969 outdoor scenes for the Bolton-based film Spring and Port Wine, starring James Mason, were shot there, and in August that same year a little-known singer named Freddie Mercury performed with a band called Ibex in front of 500 enthusiastic teenagers at the town’s first open-air rock concert. He formed his own band Queen the following year and went on to become a global superstar.
There are several minor entrances to the park and two main entrances, one being at the bottom end close to the town centre and the other at the top on the wide main road which eventually leads to Chorley. My stroll started from this top entrance and straight away I got my first few photos, then as I walked down the wide main path a squirrel ran across in front of me to the bottom of a tree, staying there just long enough for me to snatch a photo of him.
A few yards along I came to the large circular formal sunken garden surrounded by trees, shrubs and bushes ; the flower beds were bare but I did see my first rhododendron shrub of the season in full flower. A little way along the path from there, and set in an elevated position, was an informal garden with modern seating and views over the lower end of the park and towards the town centre.
A minor path on the right took me down through the trees to the largest of the two lakes inhabited by various ducks, swans, geese and seagulls, then another path took me back up the slope to a wide and pleasant terraced walk backed by shrubbery where a modern war memorial and three Grade ll listed life-size statues on tall plinths were set back among the greenery.
At the end of the terrace I walked down the grassy slope to a minor path with the aim of getting to the bottom end of the park and working my way round and back up to the top, however a signpost told me that Dobson Bridge was down a path on the left so I decided to go and have a look. Dobson Bridge was erected in 1878 to link the original park with a later extension (now playing fields) on the far side of the River Croal and was officially opened by B A Dobson, Chairman of the local Park Committee. Built of cast iron and on cast iron supports it has ornamental stone pillars at both ends, each with an ornate cast iron plaque featuring the town’s crest. Thinking back to my childhood I remember the bridge to be a grey not-very-nice-looking structure but having been restored and repainted in modern colours it now looks quite attractive.
The path passed the end of Dobson Bridge and a little way along was a small fishing lake backed by a bank of trees and another bridge, plainer this time, which led to a small development of modern business units across the river. There was a path on the far side of the fishing lake so I was able to walk all the way round before making my way back to the lower end of the park.
The next path split into two so I took the lower one which headed in the direction of the playground in the bottom corner of the park, and Sophie being Sophie she found what must have been the only muddy patch in the whole park, though by the time we got to the playground the mess on her paws had disappeared. Not far from the playground a set of wide stone steps and a long path led back up to the terrace with the statues, and at the bottom of the steps was a fountain and a couple of benches. From the playground I took the path past the bottom main entrance and the modern cafe and followed it uphill towards the main road, with my last shot featuring the same as the first – daffodils.
Back at home I checked out the park on Google Maps satellite view and realised there were a few things I hadn’t yet seen. Maybe it was because I’d been looking at the park with fresh adult eyes or maybe the modern improvements had helped, but I’d found it a lot less boring than when I was a child, and having missed a few things this time I’ll certainly be returning later in the year for another exploration and dog walk.
My Monday walk this week was a relatively short one of barely a mile, round the local nature reserve of Doffcocker Lodge. The Doffcocker area is a mainly residential suburb about three-and-a-half miles north west of the town centre ; the history of the name isn’t certain but it’s believed to originate from two ancient Celtic words meaning ‘dark winding stream’. The lodge was created in 1874 as a mill lodge although the mill disappeared many many years ago ; the area round the lodge has long been a popular place for dog walkers but in 1992 it became designated as the town’s first local nature reserve and in the years since then improvements have been made to the land and the pathways and a small free car park has been created.
A hundred yards or so down the road from the car park entrance is the red brick Doffcocker Inn pub/restaurant, known locally as ‘The Doffy’. Built in 1901 on the site of a much older and smaller pub of the same name the outer structure was erected around the original pub before that was demolished ; the whole process was completed without closing the original pub so the landlord didn’t have to apply for a new licence. The current building is a rare example of a calendar pub, with 4 floors, one for each season, and each floor having seven rooms, one for each day of the week. The cellar has 12 rooms for the months of the year, there are 52 doors and 365 window panes – quirky it may be but I wouldn’t like to clean all those windows.
Deciding to go anti-clockwise round the lodge my walk started from the car park by the dam at the bottom end, with the path passing a couple of coppices and the long back gardens of some nearby houses before emerging into a meadow which would be a pleasant place for a picnic in nice weather. At the far side of the meadow the path crossed the end of the lodge and took me to a second meadow where several benches set beside the path were well placed to take in the views over the water.
At one point the shape of the land formed a little bay in the water and a great cacophony of bird shrieks and squawks was coming from the vicinity ; when I got round there I found seagulls flying all over the place in great excitement while the various ducks and geese added their voices from down in the water – someone had thrown in several slices of bread and they were all trying to get their share.
The path took me past the back gardens of a row of bungalows set sideways on to the lodge and just past there a tree lined bank separated the path from a pleasant looking residential avenue. The end bungalow had a garden filled with different coloured heathers and other plants and it looked so pretty I thought it was worth a photo or two. It wasn’t far from there to the end of the lodge and as I got near to the dam I stopped for a few minutes to watch the antics of a Domestic Greylag goose in a shallow part of the water.
Those were to be my last photos of the afternoon – although there had been some blue sky and a bit of sunshine earlier on it had soon turned to grey and by the time I got back to the van it looked like rain wasn’t far away. Although the walk hadn’t been a long one Sophie and Poppie were happy enough so it was time to head for home and put the kettle on for a welcome mug of coffee.
A week of high winds, heavy rain and anything else that storm whatever-it-was-called sent down had effectively stopped me from going for a decent walk but by yesterday it had calmed down considerably so during a fine but dull period in the afternoon I took my chances and went out for a short local walk. My quest was to find a hidden pond which I hadn’t been to for at least twenty years but as I suspected that the location and route to it would be very muddy at this time of year I left Sophie and Poppie behind for once.
The first fifteen minutes of the walk took me across a nearby main road and along a couple of residential roads with detached and semi-detached houses with pleasant gardens. Many of the gardens were showing signs of spring but the first thing that caught my eye was the mass of bright red berries and green leaves growing up the wall and over the front door of someone’s house – as red is my favourite colour I just had to get a photo of that one. A few gardens away was a large bush with yellow flowers (possibly forsythia) and in the garden next to that was (I think) a large camellia bush with a lot of its flowers lying on the ground, which I can only assume is the result of the recent high winds.
Along the next road was Bank Top community garden backed by the attractive black-and-white building which was once a tennis club but is now the home of Bank Top micro-brewery, and in a secluded corner some recently placed cut flowers and a small memorial plaque set in the ground. Fastened to the side railings was an ornamental lizard which I don’t remember seeing on my walk down there last year – it was very colourful but I wouldn’t like to come across a real one in the undergrowth.
At the end of the road a cobbled lane took me down past the stables where I once worked and into the woods with a wide path alongside the river and a bridge up ahead, and though I would normally cross the bridge and take the path at the far side this time I followed the left hand path which eventually took me up a steep bank above the river. It wasn’t too bad to start with but as I got further along it became more and more muddy, and being close to the edge of a steep unprotected drop down into the fast flowing water I was glad I hadn’t got the dogs with me.
Eventually the path widened out and emerged into open land on the left, and though I had a fair idea that the hidden pond was somewhere in that vicinity there was no way of searching for it without scrambling under a barbed wire fence and getting myself thoroughly dirty in the process, so that one will have to wait until there’s been a period of warm and dry weather. Following the path took me downhill into what, according to a nearby signpost, was Eagley Valley nature reserve, and not far from the riverside was a tree bursting into life with yellow and white buds. The white ones looked like what I’ve always known as pussy willow but the yellow ones looked more like fat hairy caterpillars – it would be interesting to see what it looks like when it’s fully in bloom.
A distance past the tree the path branched left and right ; left would take me up to a large modern housing estate so I went right and crossed a bridge to a long and wide stretch of open land, locally known as Eagley Meadows, where I could see Brook Mill in the distance. As the land opened out I could see what seemed to be a large pond with a thicket of trees growing in the middle of it – I didn’t remember there ever being a pond there before but a lot could have changed in the years since I was last there, however on closer inspection it turned out to be an area of very waterlogged land with the water looking quite deep round the trees.
The waterlogged land encroached on the path at one point so I found myself walking through yet another patch of mud but once I was beyond that the going underfoot was good for the rest of the walk. At the riverside I saw the big black duck which I’d seen three weeks previously, he was swimming in the water but the current was flowing so fast that it carried him down the river before I could get another photo of him. Recent information from a duck expert has told me that he’s a cross between a domestic large Cayuga duck and a mallard ; Cayuga ducks originate from the Cayuga Lake region of New York State and will often breed with mallards, producing a large bird with the black/green feathers of the Cayuga and the yellow bill and orange feet of the mallard.
The path from the riverside emerged close to Brook Mill and from there it was all road walking in the direction of home, with my final photo of the day being another camellia bush in someone’s front garden, though unlike the previous bush this one seemed to have retained all its flowers.
Even though the gloomy afternoon hadn’t been the best it had been good to get out for an hour or so, though looking at the muddy state of my wellies when I got back home I was glad I hadn’t taken the dogs with me!
Since getting my new camera a week ago I’ve been itching to use it on a good walk but the weather has been against me every day – grey, chilly, windy and almost constantly raining, a big contrast to the unseasonably warm and sunny weather of just a couple of weeks ago. Yesterday morning we had sleet followed by more rain but by early afternoon it had been fine long enough for me to attempt a short walk ; I needed to pop into our local Asda store for something I forgot to get while shopping there on Saturday so I decided to kill two birds with one stone and take a route which would end at the store.
If there’s one thing this town isn’t short of it’s parks and there are two quite close to home though unfortunately the larger one seems to have been a victim of council cutbacks over the last few years. With broken chain link fencing bordering the lane to the nearby farm, the tennis courts long since gone and the bowling greens no longer in existence it looks rather uncared for and scruffy in parts and is really only fit for dog walking, but it’s still quite a pleasant place on a sunny day.
At the bottom end of the park I crossed the lane and entered the woods but instead of taking the right hand path which would take me in the direction of Smithills Hall I took the left, and with allotments on one side it was much more open than the other path. By this time some of the grey sky had cleared and the sun actually put in an appearance but unfortunately it was only short lived and by the time I got to the end of the path it had clouded over again.
The path brought me out close to the bottom end of a very pleasant residential road and at the confluence of Raveden Brook and Dean Brook. Raveden Brook, which runs past the grounds of Smithills Hall, is normally only fairly shallow but with all the rain of the last ten days there was a lot more water than usual, and Dean Brook was a really fast flowing torrent which wouldn’t have looked out of place on a white water rafting course.
The end of the residential road emerged onto a busy main road but continued across the other side ; at one time that part of the road led past a fishing lodge to the premises of an industrial sealing and bearing manufacturers but ten years ago the buildings were demolished to make way for Phase 1 of a new housing development. The lodge was eventually drained and filled in and Phase 2 is now underway ; on the gate into the site was a sign which I’ve seen in many places and which always conjures up an image of a huge triffid-like plant in a massive terracotta plant pot making its way across the road.
The road ended in a cul-de-sac and a footpath from there took me past the river, emerging onto a partially pedestrianised lane which would take me towards the Asda store. Set back off the lane were two cottages, originally very old but now much modernised, with the first one having a quaint but rather cluttered front garden ; at one time it had a couple of stables attached to it but the ponies have long since gone and the stables now seem to be used for storage.
It didn’t take long to walk from the cottages to Asda and by the time I got there the sky had cleared and the sun was shining again, however any hopes I had of taking more photos on the way home were dashed when I came out of the store. I’d only been in there ten minutes but in that time the sunshine had disappeared, the blue sky was turning to grey again, and as I walked through the smaller of the two parks close to home I just managed to snatch one last photo before the heavens opened with a heavy shower of hailstones.
The hailstones lasted until I got home but the sky stayed grey so any further photo taking would have to wait until a nicer day. Although I hadn’t managed to test all the features of my new camera it had performed well while I was out so I was more than happy with it ; it will certainly make an excellent replacement for my other one so now I’m looking forward to using it in much better weather.
Taking advantage of the recent (unusual for February) warm sunny t-shirt weather, and on a day when it was even warm enough to wear my cycling shorts, I took Sophie and Poppie for a local circular walk which I haven’t done for quite some time. Only a few minutes from home, and along a narrow lane, I got my first photo – a cute little cluster of snowdrops nestling in the partially shaded garden of a large house. The bottom of the lane emerges onto a busy main road and over on the far side is a large and pleasant triangle of green space. Bounded by the main road on one side and by minor roads with big houses on the other two sides it’s not big enough to be called a park but with a couple of benches it’s a nice enough place to sit and while away some time on a sunny day, and dotted here and there on the grass were several clusters of the deepest purple crocuses I’ve ever seen.
Following the longest of the minor roads I turned onto a track between the houses and emerged onto a wooded bank overlooking the steep cobbled lane I used to ride my bike down many years ago. A path through the trees brought me out at the bottom of the bank close to the bridge over Eagley Brook ; down in the water was the resident large group of ducks and among them was one I hadn’t seen before. I don’t know what sort of duck he was but he was black with a green head and green tinge to his feathers, and was twice the size of the others.
Across the bridge was Brook Mill, the first of a complex of three former cotton mills built in the late 19th century. Textile mills had existed there since the late 1700s but in the 1820s brothers James and Robert Chadwick began to redevelop the site. After James died in 1829 Robert amalgamated the business with a Manchester company and a model village was built for the mill workers ; this consisted of cottages, a school, a library, cricket pitch, bowling green and a park with a bandstand where the Eagley Mills Band would play.
Brook Mill was built in 1871 and Valley Mill was built ten years later, but after Brook Mill was burned out by fire in 1886 it was rebuilt in 1887 as the present building. The mills were managed at one point by the grandson of Samuel Greg, the founder of Quarry Bank Mill at Styal in Cheshire, then in 1896 Chadwick’s merged into the textile conglomerate of J & P Coats. Production finally ended at Eagley in 1972 and for many years afterwards the mills were used for a variety of commercial and industrial activities. Although the cottages and school (now a private house) still exist the library, bowling green and park have long since disappeared.
In 2001 Valley Mill was converted to residential use with 76 loft-style apartments on three floors, then in 2003 Brook Mill was also converted into 64 apartments on four floors. No. 1 mill, which had originally been built in 1894, was demolished and the land used for a small private estate of modern houses. Although I have no doubt that these mill apartments are very nice inside I personally would have no wish to live in one as to me the buildings have no ‘kerb appeal’ and look just like what they originally were – old mills.
A short access road behind Brook Mill took me to a footpath behind Valley Mill and a distance along was the very overgrown mill pond. The footpath emerged onto a large expanse of open land, part of which is used by Eagley Sports Club and has a football pitch, cricket pitch and tennis courts ; a cobbled lane at the far side ran alongside the river and took me back onto the main road and fifty yards or so along, and set back off the road itself, was a small private fishing lake.
Across the road a narrow tarmac lane took me past another couple of fishing lakes and a field where a group of ponies grazed peacefully in the sunshine, then a farm track through a wooded area took me to yet another fishing lake set on the edge of a vast expanse of farm land. A footpath close to one side of the lake ran along the edge of a field and up to the main road which runs past the end of my street but instead of going that way I went diagonally across the field to a gate and another path which would lead to a short cut home. At the top corner of the field I stopped and looked back at the view – it’s just a ten minute walk from home but no matter how many times I see it I still love it.
The path from the field took me past a second field on the right and the high hedges and back gardens of a row of modern houses on the left. About halfway along I came across a tree with thin branches which looked like they were doing their best to burst into flower ; the flowers which had already partially appeared were pink and fluffy-looking but were too far above my head for me to distinguish what they were. Early cherry blossom or something else? – I don’t know, but it will be interesting to go back in a while to see the tree in full bloom.
At the end of the path I crossed the access road leading onto the modern estate and zig-zagged my way home via another couple of footpaths and three very pleasant avenues, and it was down the third avenue where I got my last shot. Partially overhanging someone’s front garden wall was a huge bush covered in bright orange berries, and it was so striking that I couldn’t just walk past and ignore it.
Not being a gardener I haven’t a clue what the bush was but it was certainly worth a quick photo to end what had been a very pleasant local walk in some unseasonably glorious weather, and back at home the dogs and I finally chilled out with a much deserved cool drink.