It's not often that I feel compelled to write because of the beauty of the world, but yesterday was one of those days – one that stood out in two week's worth of days that have all stood out, which is praise indeed. Endless sunny days, beautiful blue skies and pinky-orange cotton wool sunsets setting over calm seas have become the norm. Bluebells have filled the woods and the tree's leaves have burst forth into life and light, as has my heart to walk amongst all that we are given but sometimes forget.
The addition of a new member of the family, a five year old young lady called Jadie from Maidstone has brought her own problems, and rewards too. For without her, or Purdey as she is now known, I might have stayed at home, together with the pains in my legs and hips that seem to have resurfaced, mulling the future. But Purdey is keen to discover the world, her senses – all these new smells, so enticing, so confusing – water, water, WATER! A break in the hedge with a stream behind in which to jump is a chance missed can't you see. A stick thrown is even more devine.
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| Purdey loves water, balls – and preferably balls in water |
Together we walked up by the Coly river and up over the hills, through fields of Buttercups and Dandelions, through lanes of Stitchwort and Cow Parsley. White blossom floated from a tree outside a beautiful farmhouse, where a bottle of lemonade sat half drunk on a table. Small streams burbled, with tentacles of streamer weed waving over beds of sunlit gravel, where minnows swam to be alive. Meadows of grass so lush that Purdey had to jump and spring to find her way – her ever gaining excitement a visible sign of the beauty we both felt. Like a dream world, one long gone, written about, but never seen. The thing of tales, the thing that men were forced to fight to protect. Summer, oh glorious English summer. For you are here. And so am I, of that much I am glad.
