Starting at little Mortimer station, the route wove along the border of Hampshire and Berkshire, skirted the edges of farm fields and passed under lines of pylons, over stiles and along deep-set drovers' paths. The Roman road marked on the map appeared to run under a field. Most of the trees are still bare but the oilseed rape is beginning its display and the hedgerows are coming to life. Fairly early on a sunny Saturday morning, everything was quiet except for chattering pheasants, shouts from riding practice, the distant rushing of trains and the trilling and mewing of what might have been a buzzard. A red kite flew up right in front of us; a snake hissed and slid gracefully into the grass; sheep's wool fluttered from where it had snagged on a fence.
|My screenprint of a walk near Silchester.|
I put this print together yesterday. I almost threw it together and I'm glad of the urgency in the drawing and the registering.
Here is Adam's lifestyle photo of tea from a thermos outside the Calleva Arms ("4 Michelin Tyres!") in Silchester village. We went in and had their stilton chips.
|Tea in the sun at Silchester.|