Peace Around the Golden Valley
The ‘Golden Valley’: dappled greens and
fair ripening crops
[‘golden’ – a mis-translation of the river Dore
– not from the Norman ‘d’or’, but the Welsh ‘dŵr’ (water)]
– a quiet and lovely place,
peaceful for rambling up and down,
around side vales and hills
with views along from high,
and far to a glimpse of the Malverns eastward,
or the Black Mountains westward,
using little-used paths with
July growth hiding stiles, and some decrepit.
Crickets or grasshoppers chirping in meadow
– something we seem to hear less now
(not just because of hay-fever sneeezes roused when walking through) –
they are so difficult to see, but we do see the grasses sway
as they land and bounce on again.
Going through a wheat field,
suddenly a helicopter/drone seems to whirl
in front of us and land on the earth
in the lee of the wheat stalks
–looking down we see a large dragonfly on the ground,
so much larger than the pretty flitting damselflies we see most often.