The drive to Uppark was one on country roads in England which means high hedgerows, limited visibility, and winding curves, leaving the destination as to somewhat of a mystery. But oh the drive was beautiful and the sun shone and it was like uncurling out of cramped space in a musty room. Fran volunteers at Uppark and whisked up a picnic and tossed me in the car. At our picnic, a bird joined us and hopped about. eyeing us, yet not greedy for our food. I wish I knew birds better because he was lovely.
As we entered the house, we were stopped short by its grounds. A full view of the South Downs, rolling gently, completely untouched by road or development, all protected lands now. A mown path led us around their "front yard" where the wild grass heaved thistles and wild flowers. The bordering fields, held, what I suspect was corn. Views like this made one understand all about the isolation of the house. And who would resist? The house, though it was nice with some lovely works by Joseph Vernon, seemed like it's biggest asset was the grounds, and as I wandered through it, wondered what on earth I was doing inside, when I could be outside. Each day, each walk in the woods just ascertains what I feel more and more each day: that one can't get enough of country walks, and beautiful views, and in a sense, isolation, and that these moments should become the rudder, to steer decisions by this.
2 comments:
My Uncle is the manager at Uppark! I've been there myself a couple of times.
What?? That's wonderful! Get you to talk to Fran, then!
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