The beauty of the English countryside has never been more apparent to me. All around me the cow parsley lace edges trim the velvet green of the fields. The shorn sheep seems to glisten purest white as the scudding clouds allow the sun momentary access to the fields. Spring Wood plays hide and seek behind curtains of rain. When the weather really closes in I cannot see much beyond the garden fence, it is as if we live on the edge of the world. The field beside the house rolls like the sea, as the crop moves like waves before a storm.
Yesterday, the little birds fluttered around the seed, today they are nestled in the grass gleaning the fallen morsels. The hedgerow is adorned with rich pink hawthorn blossom and the fragrant platters of elderflower.
Gooseberries and elderflower are a happy union of flavour and scent. Dunk the flowers in the still warm stewed gooseberries, the flavour improves and the delectable juice is decorated by the tiniest and prettiest flowers.
Even as the wind roars around the house, sneaks down the chimney, whistles at keyholes,
the ancient fields and hedges hunker down, for all the world declaiming, we've been here too long to be bothered by you.