Taking time to breath

I took the old road home from Cirencester late this afternoon, which was delightfully quiet. It winds across the rolling farmland of the Cotswolds, which is a complete contrast to the deeply incised valleys where we live, only a mile or two away. This road has probably been in use continuously for more than two thousand years, linking up the pre-roman Dobunni tribe's various centres.

I stopped and watched the wind swirling the heads of the various cereals scattered amongst the many fields. Blue wild geraniums crouch beside the road, next to hedges and stone walls. Odd cereal plants grow on the wrong sides of the walls having escaped in years gone by. Red poppies appear in the fields, thriving in odd patches as swathes of red light into the distance.

I often stop, as I did today, at a gateway into a field. The stone walls end at a gap where the current gate is made rather inappropriately of metal. But in the hedgerow, which has tall trees adjoining the field, there are many old yew trees, one of which sits right in the middle of the gap, showing that the tree precedes the latest gates and walls. It was very elegant with its twisting trunk now very hollow but with patches of red in the bark, which I think are from a resin being exuded.

A bit further along I walked through the hedgerow trees to the edge of this field, only ten yards from the old road, and I took this shot. I love days like this, when the rapidly moving clouds produce the light and shade, with their patterns scudding across the ground as well.