W-wa Jeziorki: A May Day reverie

I knew what I wanted to do as soon as I'd finished breakfast – take myself out to the edge of the forest by Dąbrowa Duża, and chill. How to get there? On foot. Walking – the only way to get about locally. I am an observing sentience, moving myself across the face of the earth. The day – perfect. And feldalkohol; I'd take two 0.33l bottles of Pilsner Urquell, suitably chilled, in my rucksack. In a mere 40 minutes, I was there. Last time I was here was in late November, when early snow covered the ground.

Birdsong, dogs barking in the distance, and jet airliners overhead. Across the fields, three or four houses, sheds, people getting on with their gardening.

Before sitting down, I check the ground for ants. They seem to be everywhere. I find one tree with fewer ants than most, under which I place myself, tucking the bottoms of my trouser legs into my socks – this does the trick. Along the margin of between the forest and the field, a narrow strip covered with pine cones and dead needles. A young deer scampers off.

I crack the bottle top off the first beer. The taste brings back memories; hoppy and sharp, but only 4.4%. I find myself drifting off into a reverie, the flavour of this morning's dream returning. Butterflies, pale green, chase each other above the young wheat. The chirping of crickets.

Almost imperceptibly, a milky film of cloud beings to move across the sky, sliding in from north-west to south-east. A distant vapour trail from an airliner passes overhead. From Italy to Estonia.

Noisier jets to the west, inbound to land at Warsaw Okęcie airport. Motorcycles – unmistakably V-twin engines – good luck with those on sandy dirt-tracks! I am getting hungry. It's been a while such lunch, a good one (roast duck, potatoes, leek and tomatoes); two small beers in my rucksack but no snacks with me. A leaf flutters down to the ground, solitary and golden, it has clung on the oak since last autumn. Birds now, but no song – common woodpigeons (Columba palumbus) coo while pheasants trumpet. And that small speck in the sky; is that an insect hovering over the wheatfield, or is it a more distant kestrel hovering over the forest?

Across the field a man returns to his green shed with an empty watering can. I guess he is quarter of a kilometre away. The milky clouds have evaporated as the shadows swing round and begin to lengthen.

The beers have been supped back; the reverie has passed. Ants, pants, and a need to dance. Below: look at the image closely; I can see at least 15 red wood ants (Formica rufa). They were not here when I sat down!

Time to move on. "Where's he at?" "Sittin' over there". Time to go, take my empties; "take nothing but memories, leave nothing but footprints." I walk back through Dąbrowa Duża and through the village of Jakubowizna. The observing consciousness continues to move on across the face of the earth.

This time last year:
Prague, Central Europe

This time two years ago:
Under azure, Jakubowizna

This time three years ago:
Łady roadworks

This time four years:
S7 extension works

This time five years ago:

Back to the działka after eight weeks locked down

This time six years ago:

Vol 2. of Bevis's Betjeman biography

This time seven years ago:
New roads and rails

This time eight years ago:
The Gold Train shoot - lessons learned