The View from Here: on an afternoon in April

The view from here on this soft and mellow April afternoon has been filled with small and simple joys

We have sunshine.  I took a longer walk than usual, striding along the top road with the warm wind in my hair, skylarks singing in the heavens and solitary seagulls hanging at jaunty angles against the clear blue sky.  I checked the wires for newcomers.  The wires were empty.  Soon, I thought.

Soon. Continue reading “The View from Here: on an afternoon in April”

Sound, Silence and Safety

Under the trees, in the bedrock of the valley, I feel surrounded by an entity primeval and powerful. And the wind roars. 

I have discovered that it is possible for a February night to be both warm and cold.  There was a duality to this night.  This was my thought as I stepped through the door and stood outside in the dark.  Was it the night that was warm and the wind that blew cold?  No, it was the other way around.  The wind was whispering warm: later in the year it might be described as sultry.  It had a siren’s song, a susurration that spoke of secret things and of temptation.  The sound was so soft it fell around me as silence. Continue reading “Sound, Silence and Safety”

The view from here: a Tuesday in October

In a world of bustle and change there is always stillness

WP_20160709_013Outside, it has been a mild day: mild but moist.  The air scarcely breathes: a stark contrast to yesterday’s winds.  But whilst yesterday was wild and spirited, today seems damp and tired.  Listless.

As I approached the post box at the top of the hill this morning, I met Peter, our farming neighbour, and his son, Edward.  There was clear evidence on the road of their most recent task: the cows had been brought in.  Were they coming in for the winter?

Out of sight a cow bellowed mournfully.  If she has begun her winter incarceration, it will be many months before she and her sisters are once again on the valley slopes.  The view from here will have emptied.  Our view is never quite in harmony when the cows have gone.   Continue reading “The view from here: a Tuesday in October”