The Scan

It is finally the day of my scan. We are driving there now. Mike is driving a little faster than normal because he fears being late due to the pressure of finding a parking space.

The road we are travelling is beautiful. It is the A10. It is a newish road; two lanes each way with a central barrier, and wide lay-bys, but we are in a hurry so we cannot stop. The road is made beautiful because of the wonderful, often far-reaching views of the surrounding countryside, fields green and bounded by autumnal hedges interlaced with still dark green bowed brambles and interjected with stately old trees, many of them oaks with their golden brown covering.

Other trees with upward thrusting bare branches: sycamores brightly yellow with the first tinges of orange; magnificent beeches resplendent in their burnt orange cloaks. Rose hips still hang heavy. Giant cow parsley skeletons stand proudly on verges. Graceful silver birches with their delicate branches prettily peppered with golden leaves. A brown female pheasant stands sentinel on a fence. Nine white doves cluster near the edge of a newly sown field, bearing a mid-green sheen of fresh shoots. High trees of dark red haw berries stand proudly above the hedgerows, food for hungry birds on cold days to come.

Here and there apple trees, bearing fruit, have sprung up planted by the careless tossing of apple cores from car windows or walkers passing by. I have often, on finding these self set trees, tried their fruit. Most of it is unpalatable, although sometimes, with the addition of sugar, it does cook well and is often very flavoursome. An aunt of mine, who during her lifetime won many prizes for her jam-making, used to walk the highways, byways and common land collecting wild fruit to use. Her wild apple jelly was wonderful: a pale pink in colour, and delicious on toast or with bread and butter for tea.

Ivy climbs trees and thrusts forward its autumnal flowers for late flying bees and butterflies to re-energise on. Here and there a garden escapee cotoneaster stands tall with graceful downward branches and cheers us with its red berries brightly standing out against its dark green leaves.


Now in late autumn, winds have bared branches and lessened leaves on so many trees I am surprised by the number of conifers I have seen, but also pleased because they are home and shelter for birds, insects, bats and squirrels in the cold months ahead.

Last time I came for a scan, it was easy and carefree, this time it is different. Last time altered so much. A node – two small words, but such a large, fearful question mark left in my mind.

Passing through Harston, on our way home we chanced on a Thai restaurant, where we ate lunch. The service was great and the food even better. Perhaps a week on Monday, if the news is good, we will again stop here, this time to celebrate our good fortune.

Driving home we went from Cambridgeshire into Essex back to Cambridgeshire and into Hertfordshire. We drove through the highest point in the county of Cambridgeshire. Driving home on the B1368 we were still surrounded by wonderful countryside, but often the road was bounded by bare brown hedges and sad-looking verges. The road edges were muddied and puddle.

Across the fleeting views of fields the mist hung heavy and the horizon was lost from us; the sky being a miserable murky grey. Trees which sunlight would have lit up and glowed had lost their enchantment and looked dull.

We hit the A10 at Puckeridge, and turned left to follow it toward home. It was beautiful journey there, and an interesting one back with its several small, but pretty English villages.