Tangled wood: Horner, one of England’s largest oak forests. Coming down like the wolf on the fold, cohorts gleaming purple and gold… Church of All Saints, Selworthy. A gleaming monument from across the valley, an iced confection when face-to-face. A little too much confection for some, but it’s too pure not to be enjoyed… Exmoor … Continue reading An Exmoor September
Gwydir Castle in the Conwy Valley, North Wales. It was rescued and restored privately in the 1980s, and even on the rainiest of days (as above) has a magical atmosphere. Peacocks rustle and rush around trees planted for Charles I and Henrietta Maria, in a way that will send a gentle shiver down the spine … Continue reading Gwydir and William Morgan
In the garden at Dove Cottage, Grasmere – Wordsworth’s humble, rented abode where we were told Coleridge would walk over from Keswick, arriving at midnight, at which point Dorothy Wordsworth would rustle up a quick fried steak in the kitchen. All I remember from a look at her journal long ago was that she seemed … Continue reading Wordsworth on the rise
WHISTLES IN THE WIND 