Oxfordshire

It is the peak of the spring burst, oak leaves rising sap green, dappled green white of candles on chestnut trees, may blossom and queen annes lace. Dog walk up to the ancient hill fort, where a fellow dog walker says: people have walked here forever. Walnut trees amongst the hawthorn, sheep grazing, dog chasing rabbits. Soaring above, two kites, one screw dives to catch a baby rabbit/ Bird song so strong, and melodious.

My young cousin, Berenice, with her two children, Daisy and Tilly, has perfected something I have never grasped, multi-tasking. She gives me encouragement that I can do it: find the house of my dreams and share it.

I’d forgotten how rich Oxfordshire is, with its substantial walls of stone, protecting grounds and castles. In Suffolk we have hedges.

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