To Fleet this evening and fossicked out artists’ colorman. Had another beauty of a red moon to look at coming home, eating chips and fish, hot, out of a piece of newspaper. With Warwick for companion tonight, we made a start through Paradise, but struck a side-track which proved somewhat wild and brambly. Were repaid by stumbling across a hedgehog, curled up in a ball from which he absolutely refused to budge though lifted about by his spikes. The inhabitants tell us there are plenty of squirrels about, but hard to see with the trees in leaf; also snakes of several varieties. Whilst I was sketching, a half grown foal came up, bit my boots, sniffed by hat and sketch and in short, became so familiar that I had to shoo him off. His dam, on the other hand, bolted when she saw me, but she would probably know more about art.
Walk March 