I've just had a walk around this old little town of Ludlow, with its narrow twisting medieval roads and aged cottages. It's not a tourist sight and not much of a place, really, just an ordinary little town, not unlike many others near Hereford where I'm currently staying. But I love these ordinary touristless towns where real life goes on, and whenever I have free time I spare some for a good walk around one of them.
So, it's 5 o'clock now (time for a cuppa tea!), and my feet hurt, and so I decide to have a break at the foot of a hill near the river. I have neither food nor tea on me, and I'm too tired to take my notepad out and fix the experiences of the day. So I close my eyes. And see.
It all comes very slowly, gradually as my mind is calming down - I hear distant sounds of cars, people talking, a dog barking twice, and then - closer - the river rolling and the wind blowing in the top of the trees. And I do realise, in this particular moment, that this balmy wind which is now tenderly touching my face is the same wind which was passing through Sherwood Forest trees in Robin Hood times, and this very earth which is sharing its warmth with me still remembers ancient songs and celts and village witches, and this very sun that is gently caressing my eyelids and cheeks used to spark brightly off the swords of the Knights of the Round Table... stirred, I open my eyes, and look up, and all at once see a magnificent old castle, once grand and now in ruins, resting on the top of the hill, and I gasp and stare as my heart is filling up with joy of knowing: this is old England talking to me here and now, the old England from legends and fairy-tales, it is still here, alive and breathing, separated from the modern world by a wall no thicker than a shadow, and you can touch it and feel it anytime you want, cos once you become aware of it, it is always there for you.
[700x525]