(We have a giveaway winner to announce, at the end of this post.)
This post is mostly an excuse to show you lots of outdoorsy pretties, whilst we sit and knit/hook/spin a’while.
T’was a mild autumnal morning several weeks ago, and I was on a super-secret mission to photograph Oxfordshire landscapes. There is a yarn-related reason for this, and you will get to see it soon, and I’m so happy about the whole thing that I’ve taken to SQUEAKING excitedly. But it has to stay secret for now… so secret that I can’t even tell you, for a little while longer. But you’ll be the first to know… or possibly the second, right after the neighbours come over with Pest Control to investigate the squeaking noise.
Anyway, I pottered cheerfully around the Oxfordshire countryside, snapping photographs as I went…
…and enjoying the occasional hedgerow snack because I’d forgotten to have breakfast…
I was looking for the right kind of landscape, and it was proving tricky to find but hey, there are worse ways to spend a morning.
I needed hills, the bigger, the better. We’re frustratingly lacking in mountains around here, something that I’ve complained to the county council about repeatedly. But we do at least have hills…
…And an abundance of evidence of the folk who lived and massacred each other here thousands of years ago.

Nice spot for repelling the invading hordes, don’t you think? :-

But I still couldn’t find quite the right landscape for this secret yarny plan.
My final attempt began beside a winding road. I hadn’t planned to stop there, but it looked promisingly wild and hilly, so I set off up a steep track. It was one of those sneaky hills that repeatedly lets you think you’re about to crest the summit and achieve the Best View Ever, only to reveal yet more hill, and yet more empty promises. (Bitter? Moi? Yes.)
And now I stopped to think about it, it was eerily quiet, with not a hint of human activity in sight, other than what looked oddly like large human footprints in the mud.
On, and on, with a fair few challenges along the way.
It seemed ridiculous to turn back now when I must be so close to… something, despite the fact that I’d spent the whole of the past half hour believing the same thing. Stupidly, I’d left my map in the car. I hadn’t even brought knitting: that’s how brief I thought this walk would be. The silence was becoming eerie, and I say that as someone who loves to hang out up barren mountains. Even the barefoot foot-printer seemed to have given up by this point. Can’t say I blamed him. There was no longer any sound of birdsong.
And then… a door, apparently into the undergrowth beside me. I kid you not. Have you ever seen a door looking quite so out of place?
Hmm.
I’ve read enough fiction to know that this is the sort of thing that leads to alternate universes and all kinds of dodgy shenanigans. It was very tempting to open the door.
But nobody knew where I was, and more importantly, what if there really was an alternate universe behind there and it didn’t have any yarn and I couldn’t get back?! A lass doesn’t want to have to live with that kind of regret.
So I carried on. And on. Losing faith that this hill would in fact ever end. Slightly perturbed that you can walk this far in Oxfordshire without seeing any sign of human activity. I mean, this is south east England, not Siberia. It had definitely become one of those times when stubbornness shows up and locks common sense in the broom cupboard. I was trying to work out where I was. It was hard to tell, with dense hedgerows on both sides of the path:-
At long last, I reached the top of the hill… where there was good news and bad news. The good news was a charming view over rolling hills. Just what I was looking for. The bad news was that I finally worked out where I was. I was in Berkshire. At some point, roughly half a mile back, I’d crossed the county boundary, and this was not Oxfordshire. So I couldn’t use it for super-secret-squirrel yarn-related mission.
Sigh.
It was very pretty, though. Look! And once I did get the chance to look at a map, I realized that I was in Unhill Bottom.
Anyway, on a more positive and successful note, let’s have a winner for the Clara Parkes giveaway. (Please note: we’re not actually giving away Clara Parkes herself, just her brand new book. I don’t want any disappointed folk turning up here to sue me.) Thank you to the 208 of you who entered, here and on the blog’s Facebook page. Congratulations, BECKY CORNES! You should have received an email, asking for your address so that the publisher can send out your prize. You’re going to LOVE this book. Enjoy!
Thank you to Abrams Press for the review copy and for offering the prize for this giveaway.
I love this post, gorgeous scenery, and to arrive in my county of Berkshire, welcome to the Berkshire Downs, maybe your next secret squirrel project could be Berkshire based, and we do have an apalca farm near where I live too ! What’s not to love about that, look forward to your next adventures : )
Nothing wrong with a bit of Berkshire, just a shame it doesn’t meet the criteria for the secret project as that particular bit you stumbled upon looks particularly lovely!
I would love to know where the first picture was taken. We have a very similar view of Wittenham Clumps local to me and I guess your picture must be somewhere in the vicinity
Hi Pippa. That photo was taken from Churn Hill, near Blewbury. 🙂
Lovely pictures! Good thing you didn’t open that door in the hedgerow. You never know what lurks behind. Gah! So creepy!
Beautiful photos and a great lead in to a fun adventure?
I love this post! It looks like you had a lovely walk!
So, do you normally wander along knitting, giving your hands something to do while your legs jump over puddles?
Yup! Walking is valuable knitting time. I just wish that I could knit when I go for a run…
That would be pretty amaaaazing!
My favourite photos are thhe ones of Whittenham Clumps – great name! – and, (sorry), and the one in Berkshire. I love the brown field which looks as though a giant has just dropped a sheet of brown paper in the middle.
I feel sure that had you opened the door you would have found treasure. The feeling is strong.
From where I sit (in Portland, Oregon) any of those beautiful vistas would have seemed a bit of heaven. I cannot believe that people actually live in such perfectly gorgeous places – please do enjoy it and send more pictures. By the way, I’ve been turning out little Christmas trees inspired by your blog – the more I make the more I think of another person who would LOVE one! Seven so far. Thanks for that idea – you’re brilliant.
Brilliant, brilliant post Phil!!
S x
I vote that you, the Stoic Spouse and the twinage return to explore ” the land beyond the door”, I hear it is Yarntopia. There is the White Horse of course, but probably too obvious for the secret hill yarny thing.
I love photography and your photos are gorgeous. I confess I don’t always read blogs, but looking at the photos I began reading and was so intrigued I read the whole thing. I love your great talent of writing and adding great humor. I especially identified with not having yarn and ending up in an alternate universe, LOL. Thanks for such interesting facts and fun.
I think a book maybe in waiting – for you to write it – and illustrate it
Suggest a twinning (no link there honest) with a village on the Northamptonshire/Oxfordshire border, possibly linked by ley lines diagonally. We have driven through it many, many times (from Buckinghamshire to West Wales avoiding paying tolls to enter Welshman’s own country) and NEVER seen humans walking, standing, outside of cars. The lights are on in their village store, their pub, cars are parked in the hall car park, but no walking, talking, sitting outside people…. Driven through at practically every hour of the day and night – nada. Perhaps the door was as the shortcut in Cluedo, instead of from the Conservatory to the Kitchen, from Berkshire to Northamptonshire …….