A strangely mild January day; it looked as if it should have been cold and frosty. Instead, the late afternoon breeze wafting into the sunny North Downs escarpment at Knockholt Pound was tonally of southern Europe. I’d finished various tasks (which included watching tennis and football) by 2pm, which is about the cut off for setting off for a Kent Walk Near London in late January when darkness descends by 5.30pm. I found that even as dusk fell there were still carefree buzzards and kites drifting on the thermals across the dips and dry valleys, over sheep whose outlines caught the last of the sun making them appear luminous. As the sun set there was a gentle fall in temperature but by the time I reached the car there was still no real bite to the air and I reflected on the fact I could feasibly have done the whole walk in my T-shirt. It also occurred to me that I had encountered only one other person over the three miles of the route.