Most evenings you’ll find me watching the sunset from the top of the Lincolnshire Ridge. Breathing in the fresh air and taking in the wonders of nature for a while is the perfect way to relax. And we are blessed, in our small English village, with a stunning view that truly comes into it’s own in the golden light of the fading day. This is especially true at the moment. The oil-seed rape is in flower, and the landscape that stretches out below us is a patchwork of vivid yellow, and bright spring green.
No matter which way I wander through the village, down old lanes or new, my footsteps always lead me back to the edge of the Ridge. There’s a long stretch, lined with trees and tangled hedgerows, along which I can take in the views as the sun sinks lower in the sky. Often it’s the hedgerows themselves, however, that draw my eye.
The wider landscape is not the only thing to draw my attention as I walk. Spring is fully upon us now. Daisies, dandelions, and forget-me-nots grow in abundance, as well as myriad other tiny flowers that I struggle to identify, even with the apps I’ve loaded onto my phone for that very purpose. The trees and hedges are covered in fresh new growth. Lone bees hurry between flowers, rarely stilling long enough for photographs; early butterflies dance on the air, often no more than mere glimpses of colour and movement, there and gone.
Many sunsets are simply golden. They’re beautiful, as nature always is, but without the stunning colours that makes your breath catch in awe. I watch the play of light over the clouds that streak the sky, increasingly hopeful as pink and purple tints begin to build.
Unfortunately, what begins with promise soon fades as clouds shift to obscure the sun’s light. It’s disappointing, but I don’t mind too much. After all, there’s always tomorrow’s sunset to look forward to.
An Enchanted Place 