This was lovely, Tom, and reminded me a little of my days in London, when I would ride bus routes from start to finish to see what I would find. I also relate as a writer now, because I have a story set in London that I am desperate to write, but I currently live in the Middle East. I could write it now, but it would be a million times better if I wrote while sitting on some of those buses.
Thank you for a delightful romp through the countryside. (I'm still chuckling over "Poo des chevaux.") I've walked through the Lakes and the Cotswolds and passed through many a kissing gate, and this post took me back to those rambles. And I love that you capitalized Pagan. Two of my novels deal with Paganism in one way or another, and even when I stress the capital P in the story, reviewers inevitably write "pagan." Oh, well; I'm about to write another story with Paganism in it; maybe they'll learn eventually.
Wonderful. We lived in Hereford for a year, near the Bulmers cider factory, and I remember September being a month full of trundling lorries bringing the apples in from the county. The whole town smelled of apples for a while. Your photo of the hay bales reminded me of an Andrew Wyeth painting.
You are in good company, Tom! Oddly, just before reading your post, I read this: ‘Walking has something about it which animates and enlivens my ideas. I can hardly think while I am still; my body must be in motion to move my mind.’ Jean-Jacques Rousseau
And, apparently, Friedrich Nietzsche walked 8 hours a day while writing The Wanderer and His Shadow.
In praise of Herefordshire, which hasn't changed as much as other English shires. Maybe because of its proximity to Wales. I'd forgotten Violette Szabo was connected to the area, but Leo Marks penned a well-known poem as a S.O.E. code for her. I won't repro it here, but search for "The Life That I Have" and it should pop up in the gigantic free online encyclopedia, or on one of the many poetry sites. ...
I can only read M R James on the sunniest of sunny summer days, because he's so frightening, e.g., 'Oh Whistle, and I'll Come To You, My Lad,' (in 'Ghost Stories of an Antiquary') spooked me as much anything by H P Lovecraft or Edgar Allan Poe.
(I also recall a photo of The Bear perusing a volume by M R James -- in a churchyard?)
Another beautiful piece, Tom and as a resident of Herefordshire I know exactly what you mean. I know that Killpeck Church walk well and have enjoyed many a delicious meal at The Kilpeck Inn. As for that book - go for it! 🕺
What a stunning piece of writing. And that first paragraph just expresses perfectly something I had long sensed - especially since I moved away from the Worcestershire/Herefordshire border back to Oxfordshire - that there is a special quality to late summer and autumn there with the apples and the harvest that I have never felt anywhere else. The icing on the cake though for this piece - having had the joy of reading your thoughts on Orcop, Garway and M R James - as well as myself having failed to be around in Herefordshire on any day the Violette Szabo museum was open - was seeing that one of the photos was taken in Skegness. Would take too long to explain why. Please write as many novels and short stories as you can manage.
As with all your writing I thoroughly enjoyed reading this as a new subscriber. I lived in Herefordshire for over a decade - we only moved because we wanted to be by the sea but there’s something special about that county that I struggle to put my finger on but you brought it back to life for me.
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This was lovely, Tom, and reminded me a little of my days in London, when I would ride bus routes from start to finish to see what I would find. I also relate as a writer now, because I have a story set in London that I am desperate to write, but I currently live in the Middle East. I could write it now, but it would be a million times better if I wrote while sitting on some of those buses.
Beautiful writing Tom, I felt like I was on the walk with you. A breath of fresh air on this (for me) tiring Friday.
Also, exceptional donkey side-eye! :-)
This was a special read Tom! Thank you for sharing your thoughts on your long walks. Thoroughly enjoyed a peek into the English countryside.
Thanks, Tom. I hope you escaped from the hill unscathed unlike M R James' bicycling protagonist.
Windfall sheep! Thanks Tom. Fantastic photos too.
Thank you for a delightful romp through the countryside. (I'm still chuckling over "Poo des chevaux.") I've walked through the Lakes and the Cotswolds and passed through many a kissing gate, and this post took me back to those rambles. And I love that you capitalized Pagan. Two of my novels deal with Paganism in one way or another, and even when I stress the capital P in the story, reviewers inevitably write "pagan." Oh, well; I'm about to write another story with Paganism in it; maybe they'll learn eventually.
Wonderful. We lived in Hereford for a year, near the Bulmers cider factory, and I remember September being a month full of trundling lorries bringing the apples in from the county. The whole town smelled of apples for a while. Your photo of the hay bales reminded me of an Andrew Wyeth painting.
Captivating writing Tom as always
You are in good company, Tom! Oddly, just before reading your post, I read this: ‘Walking has something about it which animates and enlivens my ideas. I can hardly think while I am still; my body must be in motion to move my mind.’ Jean-Jacques Rousseau
And, apparently, Friedrich Nietzsche walked 8 hours a day while writing The Wanderer and His Shadow.
In praise of Herefordshire, which hasn't changed as much as other English shires. Maybe because of its proximity to Wales. I'd forgotten Violette Szabo was connected to the area, but Leo Marks penned a well-known poem as a S.O.E. code for her. I won't repro it here, but search for "The Life That I Have" and it should pop up in the gigantic free online encyclopedia, or on one of the many poetry sites. ...
I can only read M R James on the sunniest of sunny summer days, because he's so frightening, e.g., 'Oh Whistle, and I'll Come To You, My Lad,' (in 'Ghost Stories of an Antiquary') spooked me as much anything by H P Lovecraft or Edgar Allan Poe.
(I also recall a photo of The Bear perusing a volume by M R James -- in a churchyard?)
You write of rural landscapes with such evocative and textured language. Herefordshire sounds wonderful - and filled with storied oddities!
Another beautiful piece, Tom and as a resident of Herefordshire I know exactly what you mean. I know that Killpeck Church walk well and have enjoyed many a delicious meal at The Kilpeck Inn. As for that book - go for it! 🕺
What a stunning piece of writing. And that first paragraph just expresses perfectly something I had long sensed - especially since I moved away from the Worcestershire/Herefordshire border back to Oxfordshire - that there is a special quality to late summer and autumn there with the apples and the harvest that I have never felt anywhere else. The icing on the cake though for this piece - having had the joy of reading your thoughts on Orcop, Garway and M R James - as well as myself having failed to be around in Herefordshire on any day the Violette Szabo museum was open - was seeing that one of the photos was taken in Skegness. Would take too long to explain why. Please write as many novels and short stories as you can manage.
As with all your writing I thoroughly enjoyed reading this as a new subscriber. I lived in Herefordshire for over a decade - we only moved because we wanted to be by the sea but there’s something special about that county that I struggle to put my finger on but you brought it back to life for me.
Wow that’s brightened up our plague ridden house this afternoon, thanks Tom.
Loved that. Thank you! Write as much as you can as a foundation for another book, why not? You can do it!