In recent years, July has baked the south-east of the country. England’s green and pleasant land has more closely resembled the parched and rocky landscapes of the Middle East in drought. Instead of the healthy golden hues of ripening corn, fields have been closer in color to the tired beige of a dry and hardened pasty.
But this year the rains have held and the fields are bursting with green growth. The energy of spring has persisted in high summer.
A huge John Deere combine was being escorted through country lanes as my son William and I threaded our way across the North Essex peninsula in the Ranger. Decoys, hide, guns, and cartridges bounced in the back with Scout, our two-year-old yellow labrador. The first of the barley was ripe to be gathered in and the combine turned into a verdant field gateway, coming to a lurching stop.
Excitement
The sloping banks of the river Stour made way for the vast silt floodplains of the Blackwater estuary. William had been one of a million schoolchildren who missed the end-of-term celebrations because he had to self-isolate; his excitement was palpable. It’s all very well having YouTube and shoot-em-up games for the company but fresh air and the open countryside have an appeal that even the most fashionable of influencers or exciting of online games cannot quite match.
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