In a disturbing new world of international chaos and power politics we return to this place of calm and sanity set amidst nature’s healing peace. This is a creative writer’s paradise.
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As I sit listening to the eternal sound of the sea I can hear another song in the air over the fields nearby. It has been the music of the open English countryside since the Neolithic age. Set between these two timeless sounds my spirit rises to the skies with the flight of the skylarks.
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Landscape becomes alive to us when its beauty fills us with personal delight and a fulfilling sense of wonder. This was certainly true of 19th century country writer Richard Jefferies. For him, his own native Wiltshire was his ‘beloved land’.
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Another walk with John Clare is due. Winter is certainly smiling today. It’s a clear crisp morning. In the night the secret ministry of frost has been at work.
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A Listening Heart 