We are lucky to be experiencing high temperatures, clear, vivid blue skies and blooming, beautiful gardens, hedgerows and rolling fields. Today is a good day to live on the south coast of Devon. It’s glorious.
I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be – this morning on my jog/brisk walk/dawdle past the sweeping stretches of golden sands on the coast, I found myself in Blackpool Valley. It’s a cool and shady respite to the warming morning sun. A river idles through it and the sound of its babble is my accompaniment – there’s no need for iPods today. I can hear our majestic pheasants calling to each other, the cries of seagulls and the lowing of cows.
As I near the muddy footpath that winds up the valley I can smell a gorgeous scent – it’s a climbing English rose, pale but stunning and its scent is divine. It masks the cows…All I can see is dappled light shifting through ancient trees as I work my way steadily up hill. I squelch through swampy patches of path and stop to rest on a crumbling, worn stone wall. Finally I reach the top of the valley – and the narrow coast path opens up to farm track and I level off. It’s very hot and pretty uncomfortable but it was worth every step.Back at home I notice the blackberry bush is beginning to flower – its soft lilac tinged petals are where the plant will bear its fruit. And with that follows Autumn…it won’t be long until we’re pulling on our knitted jumpers, baking blackberry and apple crumbles and the nights will be dark and cool again.
But for now – I’m savouring our schizophrenic English summer, for all its faults (erratic temperature fluctuations to name one), when it gets it right it is simply the most wonderful thing in the world.