One of the greatest pleasures while I was home was an early morning stroll through the park, the dew still on the grass...that fresh smell of a new day.

There is no better way to wake up your soul. I'd walk down the sloping path from High Street toward the lake. I'd stop and say hello to the little oak tree we had planted for my beloved mum, then on to watch the antics of the ducks and swans, ducking and bobbing and chatting between themselves.

Ducks are such amusing birds, I'll have to tell you the tale about my experience raising ducks one day, but I digress. I'd continue my stroll, climbing the hill toward the War Memorial then off down Forest Road, over the Ford and back on the footpath around the lake.

It's gorgeous, it really is. With all the rain, the brook was running quite fast, I remembered days as a child, paddling in it, the joy of the cool clear water. That little stream has entertained Kenilworth's children for decades. In one of Mr Drew's books about Kenilworth, there is an old photograph of my Auntie Lil (Oakley), sitting on the bank with her fishing net, she was paid tuppence for posing. She looked to be about five or six at the time.

If she was still with us, she'd be in her late eighties today. I remember going home with a jam jar full of tadpoles or minnows, the poor things were doomed. I didn't think about that at the time, only that they were going to have a great life with me caring for them.

The devastation I felt when they all went to tadpole and minnow heaven, was only alleviated by the knowledge I'd done my best, and besides, there were lots more!

How I wish I could be in Kenilworth in the autumn. I couldn't help but notice the profusion of blackberry brambles everywhere. Do the locals still go blackberry picking? I hope so. No commercially produced blackberries could possibly taste as good as those harvested from local hedgerows. (A few little worms indicate an absence of chemicals don't they? Much better for us). I remember the succulent taste of homemade blackberry jam, or blackberry and apple pie.

One disturbing aspect of my meandering, was the amount of litter strewn around. How sad and how disrespectful, not to mention how dangerous to the wild life.

Mike and I ended up taking a bag with us whenever we walked through the park. We became self appointed 'litter pickers.' I have to mention here that a lot has been written lately about the youth of Kenilworth being largely responsible for this travesty. Although, I saw evidence of that in the form of beer bottles etc, part of the mess can be attributed to the people who take their children to feed the ducks. I don't think we can blame the youth for the plastic bread bags thrown carelessly on the ground, or the open sweetcorn cans slung under the hedges. It seems some families are just as irresponsible as the young people.

One thing that was very evident was the lack of litter bins.