Just as yesterday in the forest, Autumn stalked the countryside again today, only this time we were over in Purbeck, and the windswept ridge above Kimmeridge. Kimmeridge sits in a bowl surrounded by a ridge, the other side of which are the Tyneham and Corfe Valleys, it was that ridge we were walking today (the same ridge we took out to Tyneham Cap last week). The day was confused, a strong wind scoured the landscape, again Bel was a reluctant player, playing peek-a-boo between the thick grey clouds which scud across the sky, though it was still t-shirt walking weather. Odd indeed. As always, the Purbeck Hills were magnificent this morning, ancient and weathered, with their timeless wild feel, and a certain, on the edge of the world quality to them. Purbeck really is a magical isle. Getting out here early, having the tracks to yourselves, your mind lost in the rugged landscape, it's hard to imagine you're only a few miles from one of the South Coast's biggest conurbations. You might as well be a hundred miles away, and hundreds of years back in time. Today’s walking was good for ails you walking.
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