Springtime at Home: An early morning hike through English farmland

This morning I am up early, pulling on my walking boots and heading out into the fields before the day has fully started.

The natural world seems so alive to me in springtime. The hedgerows stretch upwards towards the blue skies, straining to grow.

I instinctively want to steer clear of the nettles that are creeping outwards towards the path, but I know that if I take a moment to crouch down and look closely, there will be delicate white blooms to admire beneath the leaves.

I reach the edge of the little woodland, on such high ground that it can be seen for miles around. I love the grassy slopes, the layers of foliage, the birdsong. There is always a gentle breeze up here, even on a hot summer’s day. Breathing in the cool, clean air, I feel refreshed and alive.

As well as hedges, ditches frequently act as markers between the fields. These paths are virtually impassable in winter due to the heavy clay soil, so drainage is vital and these little sleeper bridges are common.

Climbing uphill again, there are views out to the neighbouring village and glimpses of a little pool of water – a pleasant walk in its own right. Deciduous trees are native here and the local landscape drastically transforms from season to season. April is a palette of greens.

I turn towards home. There is a haze of sunshine in the air and the day is beginning. I can hear a faint rumble of traffic from the south now and occasionally there is a glint of speeding metal on the horizon that gives away the location of the distant road.

The pathways here are ancient byways. No crops will grow in the hardened soil where people have walked for centuries. Either side, pushing through the freshly tilled soil, tiny green shoots are visible.

Almost back now. When I approach the next crossing, birds scatter into the air. Several house martins circle above – we are headed in the same direction. They have seven nests in the eaves of our house and returned to roost last week. I watch them dart back eastwards again, and it helps me pinpoint my home and waiting family.

My boots are left by the back door, disinfected and set aside to dry. A new habit that now feels normal. I arrive in the kitchen, greeted by many excited voices, feeling motivated and ready for the day.

β€”Keep safe and well everyone. With heartfelt thanks to all those who are working to keep us safe, especially those on the frontline in the NHS and hospitals around the world.β€”

For daily updates and photography find me on TwitterInstagram & Facebook. Subscribe to our YouTube channel for more nature-themed videos.


    1. It’s ever such an old village – a lot of the old buildings have gone, as they were very very old thatch and timber, but you can still see the history in the bridges and the footpaths πŸ™‚ (and if you like English history, Lady Jane Grey, Nine Days Queen, lived five minutes from here at Bradgate Park)

      Liked by 2 people

    1. Ick. I don’t envy you those. My husband got a tick latch onto his arm in Scotland (in a supermarket carpark of all places!) – luckily I carry tick tweezers as they are tricky blighters to get off. Hope you’re otherwise keeping well Ellen, Cornwall seems to be one of the safer places to be at the moment, ticks aside.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Ticks aside, I think it is. Plenty of room here to get outside. In fact, the village has energy to spare to get into a war over whether or not an ancient footpath should be moved. Although we’ve had some cases here. Or presumed cases, since no one (why am I not surprised?) has been tested. Still, I have to keep reminding myself that the danger’s a real one.

        Stay well.


    1. Thank you very much Anne. I love both early morning and early evening. Although I treated myself to a dusk-to-sundown in the garden the other night, and that was wonderful too πŸ™‚


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.