days of the Queen's Platinum Jubilee 2022

Living in the UK, you couldn't have avoided the Jubilee celebrations last week even if you had tried.

Four days of events and gatherings were held across the country to mark the Queen's 70 years of service as the longest-reigning monarch in our history.

In London, there was the Trooping of the Colour, a concert outside Buckingham Palace, thousands thronging the Mall, big fancy affairs, church services, and thousands of more modest street parties. 

You couldn't move far without spotting flags and bunting throughout the land..and there was  one event which united all parts of the kingdom. It's the old tradition of a beacon chain. Lighting a beacon chain in villages, towns, and cities was a tool of communication, perhaps used to warn of invasion and danger. Now, it's used to celebrate jubilees and as a symbol of unity and celebration.

Back here at home in our teeny, tiny village, we celebrated too. With less than thirty houses here, our events aren't on a grand scale, but we do enjoy ourselves.

Our beacon lighting event took place last Thursday at 9.45pm in a huge field on the top of a hill which is only a couple of hundred yards outside the village. You can see for miles from here.....

The beacon was set and expertly lit by Phil on the right side of this photo...

Some of us brought a bottle or two of something to celebrate, some didn't but everyone enjoyed meeting up, chatting, and watching the amazing skies putting on their own dramatic show.

It grew darker and some began to edge away from the beacon which was well and truly alight and throwing out quite a fierce heat

Thanks to Joe (below on the right) who lent his fabulous field for the beacon lighting 

We now have two lovely Ukrainian families living in our village and it was so good to see them join in the celebrations. As we chatted, they told me about the ritual of a bonfire on Kupala night back home which takes place every July. 

After sunset, young couples, holding hands, leap over the bonfire. If they don't separate their hands, they will marry and are destined to be together ...if not, their relationship won't last. It's a fascinating tradition, but luckily no one attempted to do that over our beacon bonfire!

Later as I walked home with friends, we all agreed that it had been a wonderful evening. Standing on the hilltop and watching other beacons light up in neighbouring and more distant villages, made us feel part of something bigger, I loved the conversations in the open air by firelight at a time when we would all usually be indoors, the sense of community and feeling invigorated.

On Sunday morning, there was a special Jubilee service in our village church which was beautifully decorated with flowers.

Afterwards there was a village barbecue. This should have been held on the land behind the village hall, but the rain put paid to that idea.

Luckily, a family offered their barn to host the barbecue and bring and share lunch.

Ian and his son Dan worked hard on the barbecue,

Everyone spoilt the two new babies in our village, and it doesn't matter what age you are, a few party games never go amiss.

Whilst others caught up for a chat....

The pomp, ceremony and sheer razzamatazz of the Jubilee celebrations elsewhere seemed far away as we marked the Jubilee here in our small village. Instead, there was just a real sense of enjoyment, of being together, and of making memories of a landmark year in our little part of the world.

;

 

 

 

 

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

4 snowy days in lockdown 3

How our world changes when it becomes winter white .

There were flurries of snow as we walked the dogs across the fields on Saturday morning, followed by sleet which washed away the slight, snowy traces. 

On Sunday morning, this was the scene from the dining room  - about three inches of snow enveloping the garden in icy white clothing.  

My husband walked the dogs early that morning which was just as well, By the time he got back stamping his feet and drying the dogs' paws,  snow was falling and settling. It continued for about five hours, until  at last there was a lull. The skies were grey and heavy, it was still freezing, but I had to get out for a short walk before dusk fell.

Looking like the Michelin man, bundled in layer upon layer, I began a short walk around the village, the dogs padding silently beside me, as we walked along our lane...

I was tempted to go into the field opposite, but it was already after four o'clock, so I decided to turn left and take the main road through our conservation village. The lane I live on has three thatched properties, a few cottages a church, an old chapel and what were two farms, very much the working part of the village. The main road through is filled with grander properties at this end, and as the road twists, the beautiful trees always catch my eye whatever the season.

I thought I was alone in this eerie winter scene until I caught a glimpse of a friend and his dog Betty. I was immediately aware how timeless this scene is...we could have been meeting in the 19th century as the sweep of the road hasn't changed for years. 

David and I stood and chattered, but Boo and Eric were getting cold standing in the snow, so I took the cut through to the church...

I love the sight of our small village church come rain or shine, but in winter, it looks breathtaking,

 

The light was fading in this monochrome world as we made our way through the churchyard, heading for home.

So, an invigorating walk, but the warmth of the kitchen when I arrived home was wonderful, especially as the snow began to fall outside again within minutes.

Yesterday though, there was a completely different feel to my afternoon walk. More snow still lying on the ground but with blue skies and sunshine for most of the day. Others walking around the village, quick chats as everyone tried to keep their footing on the ice which lay underneath the snow. It was lovely to hear the excited chatter of children playing outside,  with few cars still, in our small village on top of a hill, 170 metres above sea level.

As I walked down the hill to the next village, I admired the stark beauty of the fields beyond.

On the way back I passed the sheep who thought the dogs and I had come to feed them.  We hadn't, so they lost interest but kept close as I took this shot of them and the sun which was beginning to set.....

Today is our fourth day of snow, the roads are treacherous around here, so we're not leaving the village yet.
The cupboards are full of food, luckily there is no urgency to get out and I think how precious these slow snow days are.

Meanwhile, our garden sleeps until the rain, which is forecast for later, arrives. 

Then it's back to whatever normality is in this lockdown life.......

Weekend walks every day during lock down

Each daily walk is different for my two terriers Boo and Eric. Some times I walk them, at others, my husband does.

If it's a normal working day for me, it can be a shorter walk, especially if it's raining or icy. It can be a very fast romp down the lane and through the village if I'm running late for work, and there's definitely not time for dawdling. Oh no.

Weekend walks are completely different of course. There's time  for them to stop and sniff and track.  For me there's time stop and stare...at the horizon, at the fields, at the sheep sheltering under the trees, to stop and talk to friends, both human and canine.

Now though, during lock down, every walk is like a weekend walk. When I would normally have been driving to work, a 45 minute trip each way,  now I can be taking my time, and my cue from Boo and Eric.

Sometimes they like to turn left out of our gate, sometimes right. I don't mind as there are beautiful views and things to delight any which way we all choose.

On a hot day, it's important to have some shade....the cool air along the track by the church is pleasing...

Further on, the small lane lane invites us upwards

to what my youngest used to call "the top of the world"

Not quite, but it is a wonderful view, which never fails to please me. There's something different to see here every day...it may be a buzzard, different animals in different fields, or new crops in the fields.

Sometimes  my wellies squelch through the mud, but this weekend the land is dry, the sort of  bone dryness which cracks the earth. I turn my face to the sun, inhale the fresh warm air and listen to birdsong.

Sometimes we press on, this time not....but there's still plenty of room for the dogs to scamper off , to run, to chase a stick or two or to investigate the hedgerow.

As we come down from the hill I see my friend's field, with its newly laid hedging,which frames a timeless scene....

In a few minutes I'm back in the village, where there's a traffic jam, or what passes for one, in our village.

Farmer Phil and Jane are walking her sheep to another field....and there's also time to stop for a chat.

Our world may have changed forever this year, but this conservation village that I love, doesn't change all that much. Farmers still walk their animals through the village, there's community, greenery, space to be and plenty of it. and now during lock down, I have so much more time to appreciate it.

As for Eric and Boo, they don't know what's happening in the world, all they know is that I'm working from home, am spending far more time with them, and there's time for weekend walks every day......