Into the Country

It was the August Bank Holiday and, for once, the weather was warm and wonderfully sunny. We went to see the in-laws who live across Salisbury Plain in a small market town in Hampshire. As always it was a fabulous drive along England's long and winding roads, with at every turn another bucolic vista opening up. I spotted the chalk white horse on a hill to the north of the Plain and we saw plenty of birds of prey hovering over the crops in the hot late-summer air. There were people out walking, cycling, hiking. Happy faces sitting in the beer gardens of picturesque country pubs made for a cheerful sight.

Scotland is rugged and remote, Wales impressive and green, but England...
England is a melancholy dream, a hazy half-remembrance of great things that lurk forever just out of sight in the recent past. A flavour savoured, a mirage, a dream cherished. I love it.