We set off further afield to take a look up into the hills.
Our green and pleasant land.
A fabulous country.
In the midst of the forest
With the slanting sunlight
And pink anemone.
As the sun sets over the sea
Turning rocks ruddy
And birds swirl in glee.
As the deer raises its head
Sniffs the breeze and relaxes
To snack upon the fragrant herbs.
As the bee and butterfly
Play with the nectar-sweet flowers
Who always give.
And the air is electric
Opher – 23.2.2018
There is nothing more rehabilitating than the power of nature. To sit alone in the midst of the business of a flower-filled meadow and soak up the warmth and wonder as reality connects with infinity before your eyes.
Sitting still among the buzz of insects, with the scent of flowers and grass, with creatures rustling in the hay; as the sun shines from a blue sky and the planet turns in harmony with the heavens.
To be part of that natural world connected to the cycle of life in all the glory of its evolution and the wonder of the cosmos.
It is the perfect meditation.
The Yorkshire countryside is so beautiful. The remnants of its industrial past are evident. The old railway system is still there and a steam train runs for tourists!
The sun was shining so I took my camera on a walk up my hill this morning.
It felt like spring. The crocuses and daffs were out basking in the light.
There were clumps and drifts of snowdrops in among the trees and on the banks. Other flowers were beginning to emerge.
The sky looked so big with great clouds.
I caught a glimpse of my Red Kite but he was high up and soon became a speck in the sky.
It’s always good to have a crisp walk in the winter air, to see the sea and breathe the salt!
The stately home of Sewerby is a reminder of the inequality.
Nature is alive with deer, sun, birds and fantastic trees.
We were clambering around the rocks in the hills outside Braga, a storm was coming on the horizon, heavy clouds were gathering. A huge bull came around the rocks and started bellowing at us.
We retreated very fast.
At last the village came into sigt at the end of a long dale. The church is in ruins and is all that is left of the building. There is the old mill pond with its dam. One is left to wonder why.
we walked past Fairy Dale on our way to the village. A particularly liked the hawthorns, laden with red berries, on the tops of the dales.