Every year before Christmas, it’s a little yuletide tradition to have Libby (Kitty’s sister) over to stay. On this day we go adventuring, usually somewhere new to take in some fresh air whilst enjoying the scenery.
This year we headed south to West Sussex to the Devil’s Dyke for a meander. It’s a place which makes it feel as if the hills are slumbering giants that you are quietly scrambling over the stomachs of. Folklore surrounding the valley says it was the devil digging a trench so the sea would flood all the churches in the Weald. However, his digging awoke an old lady who lit a candle making the devil believe the morning was coming so he fled, leaving the trench unfinished. It is a place of ancient significance and utter beauty.
The sea mist swirled across and down the valley creating different lighting conditions for us every few minutes. The cold bit at our noses and fingers as we walked and slipped through thick, goopy mud. Freda’s giggles were carried in the wind across the valley towards the sea, our cheeks aching from smiling and cold as we played in the winter air. It was a wonderful day.