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Sunday British Summertime!
Last night the clocks went forward an hour and today it was not dark until 8pm - bliss! We made the most of the continuing good weather to do a circular walk around Stonor House deep in the Chilterns, impulsively stopping at this unpretentious village pub on the way for a pint of Brakspear and a bite to eat. When I was a child I hated flintwork as I was always getting jostled up against the flint walls of my primary school, but what I love most now is knowing that the brick clay and flints are dug in the local area and reassembled so beautifully. And I love finding these old carriage doors and the small entry doors cut in them. At the back of the pub were long, uneven roofs of patterned clay tiles, red and grey, orchards and sheep.The sun was warm, the beer was cool and we saw two Peacock butterflies and a Brimstone. Stonor is in the heart of the Chiltern Hills, set in a bowl of ancient parkland, surrounded by beechwood, high chalk ridges and mixed farmland. The woods are now carpeted with celandines and wood anenomes, the hedges are black with thorn and white with blosson and the wild cherries are alive with bees. At one point there were over a dozen Red Kites swooping and tumbling above us, their kee ning like whalesong in the spring air. On the hill we sat and admired the farmland tilled by John Stracey for over half a century, sitting on his memorial bench - am I alone in my fascination with these plaques? - violets scattered underfoot. On our way downhill we disturbed a nesting skylark that rose, soaring noisily into the air, passed a stand of humming beehives and back down the valley by White Pond Farm. Then into Henley for a walk by the river where we found the brewery our lunchtime pint originated from! 
Last night the clocks went forward an hour and today it was not dark until 8pm - bliss! We made the most of the continuing good weather to do a circular walk around Stonor House deep in the Chilterns, impulsively stopping at this unpretentious village pub on the way for a pint of Brakspear and a bite to eat. When I was a child I hated flintwork as I was always getting jostled up against the flint walls of my primary school, but what I love most now is knowing that the brick clay and flints are dug in the local area and reassembled so beautifully. And I love finding these old carriage doors and the small entry doors cut in them. At the back of the pub were long, uneven roofs of patterned clay tiles, red and grey, orchards and sheep.The sun was warm, the beer was cool and we saw two Peacock butterflies and a Brimstone. Stonor is in the heart of the Chiltern Hills, set in a bowl of ancient parkland, surrounded by beechwood, high chalk ridges and mixed farmland. The woods are now carpeted with celandines and wood anenomes, the hedges are black with thorn and white with blosson and the wild cherries are alive with bees. At one point there were over a dozen Red Kites swooping and tumbling above us, their kee ning like whalesong in the spring air. On the hill we sat and admired the farmland tilled by John Stracey for over half a century, sitting on his memorial bench - am I alone in my fascination with these plaques? - violets scattered underfoot. On our way downhill we disturbed a nesting skylark that rose, soaring noisily into the air, passed a stand of humming beehives and back down the valley by White Pond Farm. Then into Henley for a walk by the river where we found the brewery our lunchtime pint originated from! 
Stonor is so pretty and red kites too! How blissful. There is nothing better than those long summer days in England and that impossibly lovely optimism you get from being outside till late.
ReplyDeletexx Miss W
Thank you! Must keep remembering how blest we are. It has been such a pain trying to line up these pics - it is so good to know someone is out there in the ether looking at them!
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