The world from my window

It's the longest day today, the summer solstice, and I'm in a field of wheat  making my way up towards one of my favourite places. I never wear headphones on my walks because I enjoy listening to the natural sounds around me: the song of the skylark, the wind in the hedge, a tractor starting up on a nearby farm, a collie dog barking and a mole rustling at my feet. And then I hear, in the distance, the train going up to Crewkerne and then on to London and I think to myself, I'm so glad I'm out here in the wide open countryside, with just the dog for company. Give me land, lots of land, under starry skies. Or Dorset blue ones in this case. And then Julianna Barwick's wonderfully evocative, choral loops just enter into my ears, as if by magic. The grass has been cut for hay so we can walk down to The Wishing Tree without getting wet to way past our knees. The dog and I march along the striped carpet underfoot, which is not unlike something I'v...

A friend of mine has run into a spot of bother. He's been quoted in a national newspaper article highlighting the negatives of living in rural and coastal areas like this one. Anyone would think he was the Antichrist, the way his comments have been received. But, in broad brush terms, I think he's right. This corner of England, this land, is the closest things to heaven in the world.                We have amazing cliffs and coastline, rolling hills and hinterland, and we're continually featured in the media for this wonderful landscape and the feel-good vibe.        It's what I missed when I was away from it for a year in Corfu. It's what hundreds and thousands of people come to visit each year. It's a rural idyll. But is it? Is it really? Beneath the veneer there is something else. Something you will find in similar places up and down the country. There are drugs, there i...