By Elizabeth Owens

On a glorious morning at the end of May, I took a walk along The Millennium Way, everything was beautiful and the air was fresh and warm.

The preceding week the land had been blessed with rainfall, making the grass lush and the leaves on the trees and hedgerows a palette of rich green in every shade. The pink and white blossom “candles” on the Horse chestnut trees guided my feet along the winding path.

On either side, there grew a profusion of wild flowers in dainty, lacy white, magenta, the deep yellow of the dandelions and the shiny, waxy, yellow of the buttercups. Tiny daisies were scattered over the grass, in readiness for a small child to come along and make a daisy chain for her mother. There were swathes of buttercups and cow parsley or Queen Anne’s lace, a more descriptive name, I feel, had been left by a nature loving person using the mower.

As I journeyed on. a beautiful red Beech hedge glowed in the bright sunshine, as it skirted a smallholding, where chickens happily fed themselves in freedom and made delicious eggs for us to enjoy.

Further still, some cattle happily chewing the cud in a field bountifully stocked with nutritious grass. Some were black and others black and white, grazing contentedly on a perfect day in the county of their birth. My mind wandered briefly to the beautiful and peaceable Limousin cattle in rural France and the hours that we have sat in the sunny, pleasant garden, watching them equally contented in their own place. I’m sure that they feel an affinity to their own land and all that is familiar to them.

Onwards now, with woods at either side, the trees of many species growing tall and strong. Now there are fields, the soil a rich red hue, as it is in Devon. A beautiful red backdrop with tiny dots of pale green in far reaching rows, these dots will fill the field eventually with the maize that will be taller than I, and fill our larders at harvest time.

Heading home

In the centre of one field is an area left to nature, here stands a magnificent Oak tree. It would take a family of four, with outstretched arms, fingers touching, to hug this fine and ancient Oak. A handy bench is placed before the steepest climb, through more woods, with intersecting paths of well trodden red earth. I sit awhile, before my final few steps and catch my breathe.

Retracing my steps is mostly downhill and therefore easier. Tiny birds inhabit a small coppice by the brook and they sing prettily and their tunes are the only sound in the silence. I pass back through the area of wild flowers in pastel shades which cluster prettily along my way. The scene is reminiscent of a small Church, decorated for a country wedding, as my daughter’s wedding had been.

The artist who made the earth and sky

As I pass by the perfume is  intoxicating and very pleasant, I make my way to another seat and enjoy the vista of trees and pale blue sky. As I watch, black feathered birds soar effortlessly high above, resting on the thermals, with wings outstretched, the epitome of freedom, without a care in the World, living for the moment and happy in their lofty playground. Black on blue with whirling white feathery clouds. 

The artist who made the earth and sky had passed His brush delicately over the blue washed firmament with sweeping strokes.  So all’s right with the World.

✤✤✤

Click here for a walk through the hills of Malaga: Stealing like an Artist: How to be Creative

Elizabeth Owens – through the eyes of her husband who has known her for 58 years.

Elizabeth is a devout Christian and by definition is a person full of love and caring for her fellow humans. She is full of empathy and truly listens to other people’s joys, woes and opinions. This love extends to everything on our planet, Earth. She loves the countryside, plants and animals, and the sea, and all the creatures whose environment is being polluted by us. Sadly, we are putting them and ourselves in grave danger. Dogs, in particular, recognise this love as when they all come in contact with her. They immediately respond with their tactile nature as if she was their ‘mummy’. I am blessed to be her husband.

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