Wildflowers

The countryside is full of wildflowers, Dandelion, Wood Forget-me-nots, Daisies, Poppies and a myriad of others. Today I passed this field ablaze with Buttercups. It was a happy walk punctuated by scenes of beauty like this.

Trees

A short poem:

Trees

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast.

Joyce Kilmer

Home From The Hill

Coming down from Bluebell Hill, on my way home. In the distance the first blinking lights of our village.

 

A Sentinel

This dead tree always looks like a sentinel standing at the entrance of the barley fields. Whenever I pass it on my way to the woods on the right of this image, the old soldier in me wants to salute it. I love these fields which have produced crops and harvests year after year. They together with the skies of Kent give me a wonderful sense of spaciousness and freedom.

What will the Harvest be?

The cycle of life goes on. They’ve just ploughed the fields and planted the seed behind our backgarden, and now await this year’s growth and coming harvest. I can’t help but wonder what the harvest will look like that comes out of the seed planting during these dark and confining times. Will Nature’s voice be heard? Will lessons be learnt and be built into a future beyond this frightening and challenging time? I sincerely hope so.

Overly Exuberant

Another shot of our visit to Scotney Castle. Loved this scene of the old castle. 

This morning I was in the presence of what I can only describe as an overly exuberant person. Being more on the introverted side of things, encounters like these test my patience. I can’t join in because of my sense of incongruence, and a deadened response to it is just plain bad manners. So I find myself, at times, in these rather uncomfortable and in-between places. Fortunately, over the years, I’ve mastered a subtle and measured form of enthusiasm, which I reserve specifically for these encounters. I applied it in this case and it served me well.

From my Sketchbook

In the English landscape, you often see a single, sizable and old tree standing in a flat and expansive landscape. Although it has the look of loneliness about it, it’s locational rootedness is a positive affirmation of its presence and its right to be there. It makes no apologies for its presence.

Whenever I see such a tree, it affirms in me “my right to be here”  and I live and move through this beautiful world without any apology for my presence.

Daffodils

Yesterday, in the soft rain, I walked over to where we park our car. The sky and everything else seemed so grey – all a bit depressing. Then I saw them, pressed up against the trunk of a tree, a glorious clump of Daffodils. As I looked at them I was ushered into my day with a new sense of joy and vigour, and my mind turned to one of my favourite poets:

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;

 

From my Sketchbook

This scene of a section of the village a little way from ours, is one I pass regularly on my morning walks. Today, I decided to quickly sketch it. Not much sign of Spring yet, just one tree in full blossom.

Ruins

There’s something wonderful about ruins. They speak of age, memory and past lives, and stand as a living protest against time’s destruction. There’s a dignity about them, even in their decaying and worn-out appearance.

These ruins are part of the old Scotney Castle in Kent. Loved our visit there. Took this shot with my iPhone.