“What is this life if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare” – the opening line by WH Davis to one of the few poems drilled into me at school that still remains – and now, due west out of the village I followed the poet’s advice. Walking through the damp lanes, and around sodden fields, all at a naturalist’s (almost glacial) pace, I eventually stopped to take stock of the scene opening up before me.
The fields out here mark the most westerly border of the Murrow lands; to some, these are the borders of Soddenham itself, such is the Murrow legacy. But whilst these outer fields are usually busy bearing the foods that eventually grace our tables, today they are a rich feeding ground for a number of flighty pied wagtails and a small flock of very intent starlings, busy burying their beaks into the soft earth.
Clever chap, that WH Davis.