On the edge of The Heavens

What a gorgeous sunny day we've had, crisp and even. I couldn't avoid a meeting to sort out how to try to get the Preservation Trust reimbursed for some recent expenditure, which we believe were unnecessary. But a trawl through three years of correspondence is necessary and it is all in my email archives! I may have to have an intense phone conversation on Monday.

After meeting Anne I managed to get out to the hilltop across the valley behind our house. I drove through Thrupp and up the old holloway, more recently named Claypits Lane, which was also apt. Big pits were dug in the hillside to access the Fullers Earth which outcrops around here, between the layers of limestone. The road is very steep and it was nearly impassable in places because of lying remnants of snow and ice patches.

When I reached the top of the hill the land suddenly flattens out into open farmland, as is found all over the Cotswolds as the gently sloping limestone gradually recedes eastwards, to eventually be buried beneath newer layers of rock. We are lucky here as the scarp slopes formed by the various valleys provide very rugged scenery, compared to the flat tops.

The snow was lying unmelted on the open grassland fields. Where I parked at the top of the climb is an area called The Heavens, where the ploughs pulled by oxen and later horses, had to turn to avoid plunging down the steep slopes. I think the name comes from the word Haveden, which signified exactly this type of land in a Saxon field system. Over time, probably centuries this has been changed to Heavens, which is more like the way Havens is pronounced in the local Gloucestershire accent. Just my theory. I haven't heard another one anyway.

I walked back to the car after spending a long time dwelling in the quiet of this rural spot, where I had seen many birds and two alpacas, as well as a couple of families with little kids. The bright snow was now being turned golden by the setting sun in the clear blue sky. Here I am looking westwards, down into the confluence of the five valleys where Stroud was sited about 1300. On the distant horizon if you could see that far, is the Forest of Dean on the other side of the River Severn and its vale. I was thinking how lucky we are to be here and to have such resources only a mile from the house, as the crow flies.

This is only the second blip I've posted in black and white. I think the scene deserves it.