The end of an era

“Somebody sold out, thinking they could walk away,
But someday you’re just gonna have to say:
There’s no trespassing on this land...”
No Trespassing – George Fox

Today is a sad day in the Wilson family history; they’ve finally made good their plans and started construction on the next lot of Stuart Milne houses. So what you say? Well, it means that today I took Pepper for our last ever ‘field walk’.

The three scrubby fields behind our house can hardly be described as picturesque, nor was there anything particularly special about them. They were just spaces that a farmer didn’t deem fit for his cattle, and so allowed locals to walk their dogs in. I think every dog in Westhill has, at some point in their lives, christened the grass there. Over the years, a regular and familiar path has been worn down by the hundreds of dedicated dog owners.

Pepper was one of the more frequent visitors. We are fortunate enough to live less than two minutes away from these fields, so the entire walk can be done off lead and at his leisure. This is a great alternative to his rainy day walks, which, if I’m honest, do strain the patience of the person on the other end of the lead, left standing in the rain while Peps examines lamp posts thoroughly and ambles along. I prefer to take him on a nice long field walk, and do daily when I’m home unless it’s tipping down, in which case the mud just gets a bit much. I put on the MP3 player and contemplate the world, he sniffs and snuffles in the long grass and then runs to catch up when I call.

So, today I set off as usual, only to discover that my path was blocked five minutes in by a newly erected fence. I sighed; it had begun. Today, aside from that one section, all that invaded our space were fence posts, but I have no doubt they’ll be along to fill in the gaps only too soon. Within a few days even, the fields will be closed off to us, and every other dog walker in Westhill, forever.

Now, we’ve known this was coming for almost three years. And we can’t complain – after all, ten years ago the house that I’m writing this in didn’t exist, and I’m sure someone somewhere mourns the loss of the space it occupies. When I was up in May, some surveillance holes had been dug and some dirt and gravel piled up in a corner of the bottom field, but I didn’t think that would lead to action so soon. I know it’s a minor event in a world of progress, but this affects me and something I enjoy – it makes me sad to think that corporate greed has put an end to this simple pleasure.

I still remember Peps’ first walk in those fields. I know a collection of dogs by name and the sight of their owner because we all happen to walk at the same time. That was where I took the picture of Pepper that I carried with me on holidays and the first few weeks of uni. I’ve danced those fields in happiness (they’re fairly empty in the middle of a weekday, and I forget that the rest of the world can’t hear what’s in my headphones), ran them in anger and walked them in tears. They represent a big portion of the last four years, and when I miss home, I think I miss long dog walks in them the most.

I know there’s nothing I can do, and that there will be other walks, but it still makes me sad. So, appreciate what you’ve got while it’s there, because you never know when progress will come along and start building fences!