I have a few moments to sit in the sunshine before starting my journey homeward. I have been finishing off a piece of hedging near my cabin this morning, cleared those cuttings, had a cup of tea, washed up my breakfast pancake bits and packed.
It’s been very warm. There’s a lot more blossom out today. Yellow primroses are appearing in clusters under hedges and on embankments . A single crocus has opened out completely, next to where I was working.
The sun brought out a Comma butterfly, a lark was singing happily as it drifted high over an adjacent field and the three bee hives in the orchard have become active.
More rain is forecast for Thursday. Bar this brief interlude of a few early spring days, and they weren’t all that dry, it has been a wet winter in Somerset.
This afternoon, Dan needs someone to help paint the lines on the football field for his youth team, Baltonsborough Buzzards. Then I will get into some clean clothes and shoes for the trains to East Anglia via Paddington and Liverpool Street.
We cut the grass where the lines will be painted on two pitches, one junior, one infant. Dan will mark in the lines before the after-school session tomorrow afternoon.
Starlings were gathering on Baltonborough’s playing field when we arrived. They eventually swept themselves up, disturbed a little by the sound of the rotary mower and reassembled behind the far hedge. As they lifted off the whoosh of hundreds of pairs of wings wafted across the field. As the flock wheeled away we witnessed a dramatic shift in their colour. For a moment the flock flashed gold, then returned to black as they flew away from us.
With all the mowing done, I was dropped off in Castle Cary, whose sandstone streets were glowing by the light of the setting Sun. I had a pint of cider in The White Hart, stepped across the street for a much needed haircut, then headed toward the station.
It was not yet six o’clock, but the local chippy was already open. Run by a Chinese family, it is cash only, efficient and was a very welcome discovery. I was able to eat my supper without rushing as I ambled the mile downhill to the station.
I caught my last glimpse of Glastonbury Tor as I crossed the railway bridge.
At the station, a fifty-minute wait. I fell into conversation with a lively young man, who was keen to talk about his working life so far. After working in an abattoir, straight from school, turning down an accountancy apprenticeship, now employed as a labourer, he is excited to be joining the RAF. He stops labouring on Friday, then starts at Cranwell in seven weeks. Apparently, all of the RAF squadrons are actively deployed currently. He seems to want some action, is bored of labouring. “The country needs help.” was his view.
It has been a very enjoyable ten day stint in Somerset. In a way, I had just started to settle into the steady pattern of life at Avalon Permaculture Garden. I was always busy, felt as if I was making a worthwhile contribution and enjoying the company, there and at the Barton Inn. However, home is where my heart is, so I will be very happy to be back in Britain’s Greatest Village tonight. I should be there by midnight.
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CLP 24/02/2025
Journey of Words 
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