Another 3 weeks of self isolation we are told. There is sorrel growing in the herb garden. The veins of the lance shaped leaf are dark crimson. I pick some to make soup then saddle up Lily. We head up the steep incline to Compton Down and Melbury Beacon, an ancient landscape of celtic fields and cross dykes. There are cowslips out on the down now along with sweet violets, red campion and little bright blue speedwell who wish us “speed thee well” on our journey. 2 clouded yellow butterflies dance around us and a chiffchaff calls to us from the blackthorn. We reach the summit of Melbury Hill, 863ft up, an Armada beacon sited here in 1588. High above us piccolo shrill, the skylark in ascendance, sings his heart out.
Our fair green land of lark song, Downs and wild flowers, of brilliant blue plane free skies where the apple, pear and cherry blossom dapples in the sunlight.How can it be that so many people are suffering when this world of ours looks so divine.
I have been inspired by David Hockneys I Pad paintings from the Normanday landscape. Here is one of my own done with paints from the grandchildren!