Hay Bales

Back in the smoke since last Thursday, but hoping to make a break and head East again later this week, these photos help me connect to a quieter, slower rhythm.

And oh, those East Anglian skies. They start at waist height and seem to go on for ever.

Living in town, we get used to crowded landscapes; dramatic but limited views. To see the world open up like this is like drawing a long breath.

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I shouldn’t want to live there all the time. There is a flip side; car dependency; winds that sweep unchecked across the land; isolation. But as a bolt hole, it suits me well and recharges my batteries.

I spent my undergraduate years in the East. Something stuck. And every journey there is charged with memories, because this is where my parents moved to when they retired. So many journeys to see them. My father’s death, then my mother’s. My initiation to boat ownership, supported by Cat who adapted to this new experience as he adapted to so many others.

My nephews are close by, so there is life as well as death. And always new memories to make.

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11 thoughts on “Hay Bales

    • The thing is, I have only been there twice this summer because of my broken wrist and work. So if poss, I want to spend some more time there before winter, and stock up on those memories for winter.

  1. it does look like a lovely place to visit. those hay bales are straight out of a picture book đŸ™‚
     
    i am reminded of the hobby farm where my parents spent much of their retirement. my Dad actually spent all of his there, and my mom is spending her second retirement in the city, where she still grows a vegetable garden at almost 89 years of age, bless her. she would quite enjoy this here, too.
    thanks for sharing.

  2. I love those great fields in East Anglia, and the crops growing. I miss that here, as it’s sheep, or cattle or rough mountainy land – very few crops here. I know what you mean about drawing a deep breath – the beach does that for me.

    • Yeah, it has to someone where you can see and feel the space around you. I ache to get walking in Surrey or Kent this autumn. I can just marine the chalk paths through the hedgerows; the orchards; the views across the Weald.

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