Bye Bye Britain (1)

I leave London tomorrow and already I am feeling the missing. This morning when I woke early in a flat abutting Hampstead Heath, the foliage which fills the windows was shimmering slightly and the grey squirrel who has a morning timetable akin to my own was testing the strength of the outer limbs of several trees, and possibly lamenting the falling of fine misty rain. The fox who regularly rests in the sun on the roof of downstairs garden shed has not appeared, the non-spring like temperature, a dissuasion.

On a guided tour of Highgate Cemetary, another uniquely British juxtaposition of curated and wild space, another fox wandered unapologetically close, and unafraid. They have been very visible as I have wandered the London suburbs.

Given their outsider status in Australia, there is an incongruity for me in their accepted colonisation of this big urban space.

I have also had a stay in Warwickshire where the landscapes are populated with English sheep breeds and the distant figures of dog walkers crossing public walking tracks.

At Kenilworth castle, another guide on a tour, this time of the Elizabethan Garden, gorgeously articulated the passionate pursuit of Elizabeth1 by Robert Dudley, the castle`s then owner. He did not succeed but it was clearly evident everywhere, what his attentions were. The Queen apparently got fed up with all the ardour and decamped earlier than intended.

A wander through a reclaimed quarry which is now a bird sanctuary gave me the relaxation of sitting, camouflaged, in a hide, watching the slow society of a variety of water birds. It is a meditation.

I have always had the need to combine my love of creativity, culture and urban excitement with more natural places. This need has more than been met, with a final foray through some of the golden stone villages of the Cotswolds, icing on the cake. They are postcard pretty, albeit a little scarred by the covid exodus of the tourists who are their lifeblood, as are small villages similarly dependent, in Australia.

The church bells are pealing, and the day is lengthening. It has remained damp and cold as Britain does, but I am off for one more tramp on the heath. The natural beauty which so appeals to me, will be missed.