The world from my window

I'm up bright and early on Dorset's highest hill, looking out across the vale to a hazy coast, at around about twenty past seven. This is a 'no filter' photo from my phone. It's wonderful up here this morning, with no-one else about. On the top of the world, looking down on creation. It's Lady Day today, and also my only brother's birthday. Two important events in my family's calendar over the years: the latter because he is the Golden Child, the only male in a gaggle of females, and the former because it's the traditional day for farm tenancies to change. As children, we were brought up on a county council smallholding in Somerset, so Lady Day has always been part of my inner make up. It's the first of the four traditional English quarter days (the others being Midsummer, Michaelmas and Christmas Day). It's called Lady Day because it marks the Feast of the Annunciation, which celebrates the Angel Gabriel's announcement to the ...

In a poor imitation of Harry Secombe, I’m walking down through the field singing If I Ruled The World . It's just as well no-one else is about. It's not a very good imitation, especially the high bits. Even the dog is cowering. But the song just popped into my head. And this has nothing to do with Brexit, Bercow or people jostling for positions in the forthcoming local government reorganisation here in Dorset. It'st because the second line is ‘every day would be the first day of spring’. It’s feeling very spring-like this morning, despite ribbons of mist in the valley and grey skies overpowering the blue. Despite natural and man-made disasters around the world, despite climate change, plastic pollution and our materialistic culture. Despite bickering politicians, sleaze and crime. In my world, there are woodpeckers drilling for England, pigeons cooing their plaintive call and grey squirrels scampering through the skeletal branches of beech. Up on...

We wait in the car as the rain pours down outside. There's a shelter opposite and a few people in there are enjoying a hot drink. We put the windscreen wipers on and we see steam coming from the cups. We make a dash for it and squeeze into the shed as more people arrive. The hot drink is mulled apple juice and it's very fine indeed. Our names are ticked off by a lady with a clipboard, and then the tractor and covered trailer arrives and we're squashed inside it next to complete strangers and they're all animated in their excitement. River Cottage celebrates its 20th birthday this month. We've seen Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's baby from the very beginning and watched it grow. Mr Grigg is in one of the early episodes of the television series, captaining the peasants' cricket team against the toffs. It's become part of what West Dorset (and East Devon more recently) is known for. Most people here this evening are from away and are staying locall...