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Yesterday I explored Africa, discovered a Burial Ground, saw my first adder, got lost in a forest, was rescued, attracted the attention of a fallow deer, was totally ignored by a wallaby and sorted out a detail for my funeral. 

The previous evening I stayed with my husband in a hotel by the coast where our daughter and granddaughter had dinner with us.  It was a happy meal (no, not McDonalds). Yesterday morning on my way home to London I decided to wander where the mood took me.  I'd like you to join me while I revisit my day.

As I drove through a small picturesque village a large colourful sign beckoned me to the No.1 South Africa shop - a little unexpected in the English countryside.  Inside was a treasure trove of culinary experiences.  I emerged with crocodile strips, kudu steaks, biltong, ostrich steaks, koeksustans and kangaroo steaks. 

I followed another sign which said Woodland Burial Ground.  Thinking it might be an historical site I drove down a rural lane just wide enough but with passing points.  Eventually I was in a car park before a small conservatory-like building.  People inside sat on rows of chairs. Seeing that many were dressed in black I realised that it was a cemetary but like none that I had seen before. 

The glass building was in a field in which was a pond.  As I walked towards it some ducks waddled towards me, mostly mallards but there were three very striking birds, muskovy ducks,  very tame, feeding straight from my hand.  The biscuits gone they strolled away.  I strolled beyond the pond to the actual burial ground. 

No elaborate headstones here but trees planted, no paths laid out but grass over all, no demarcation, no marking of graves but a small green plaque.  Totally alone I wandered through this naissant wood reading those plaques which bore just a name, (sometimes not even a surname), date of birth and death and just a few words.  Some were the more usual tributes, much loved, sadly missed etc but others captured a spirit - "Great fun -happy memories", "I'm fine, it's the others" "Just resting, pour the tea"  Gertrude and Grace, sisters, together again", " A gentle gentleman"  One simply said "remembered".  That one I thought left a question in the air.  I departed, heart-stirred and tranquil.

I drove through the New Forest where the land alternates between woodland and scrub on which roam wild ponies.  A sign lured me to the Reptile Centre.  It started to rain but I ignored it as I peered into the open air enclosures searching for the promised frogs, toads, lizards etc.  That was when I saw the adder looking small and innocuous, curled up asleep.  I set out on the reptile trail but left it to follow a path through the dripping woods.  Birdsong filled the air.  The ground carpeted with pine needles was soft beneath my feet.  Avenues of trees sretched before me, trees of every colour green, some dark, some so light the sun might have been shining on them alone.  Twigs snapped, leaves rustled, raindrops fell softly, halted briefly by the foliage before they reached the earth and me.

I felt enriched by the sights and sounds and the solitude.  I loved being alone and nobody knowing where I was.  Gradually it dawned on me that neither did I.  I tramped on, but with no great sense of urgency, until I heard the distant hum of traffic and made my way in that direction.  I found myself on a road where cars whizzed past at breakneck speed.  Not knowing which way to go I flagged down a car and gratefully accepted a lift from a kind young woman.  "Please take me to the nearest signpost"  I asked.   The next signpost said "Reptile Centre" and I was reunited with my car.

The Owl and Otter Wood came next, another outdoor centre but this time one could only walk a set path past enclosures where otters played and magnificent owls stared back at me, unblinking.  Deer roamed freely but mostly stayed behind the wooden rails that were there purely to keep the humans on the paths.  Pine martens scurried about on extremely urgent business while the Scottish wild cat obviously found it too tiring even to turn his head.  He has, I am told, the fiercenss of a tiger but yesterday was docility itself.  The wallabies squatted with their forepaws resting on their fat bellies.  Their eyes never flickered as I stood gazing at them.  I moved, just to see if they would budge.  Nothing.  Then along came the fallow deer who took a shine to my skirt, grabbing it in its jaws and tugging.  I managed to extricate it and I walked on while he trotted hopefully after me.

 My day was filled with so much that was interesting, refreshing and spirit raising that even as I was driving home I was composing this piece to share with you all.  When I got home I did the funeral thing - but that's another story.