The tag line of my blog and other social media platforms describes me as ‘countryman’ and that’s how I see myself for I have lived in the countryside all my life.  One of my earliest memories is at kindergarten, aged four, and being taken on a nature walk.  There our teacher introduced us to a row of larch, the perfect tree to spark a small child’s imagination.  Soaring into the sky, straight and tall, their drooping branches almost touch the ground – “like gracious ladies curtseying to the mighty oak, the king of trees,” she told us, a description I have never forgotten.  An older cousin introduced me to butterflies and birds, collecting eggs and catching butterflies to mount on a board.  Back in the 1950s there were no concerns about such things, it was only later that the practice became frowned upon.  In my twenties I discovered the writing of Richard Jefferies, the Victorian naturalist; his quote below (and also attached to this favourite photo of myself with my father) sums up so accurately my feelings today.

My childhood home backed first onto wheatfields and later onto a cherry orchard under-grazed by a herd of gentle Guernsey cows.  We would walk to the farm to collect pints of their rich, creamy milk and eggs.  The first home of my own looked out towards Watlington Hill, one of the high points of the Chilterns and one which I knew well from long walks and family picnics.  After a few years I moved up the hill to a home fronting a wild bracken-covered common, its scrubby hawthorn trees the home of dormice.  Behind the house were the bluebell beechwoods for which the Chilterns are so famed.  After eighteen years there, I moved fifty miles up the road to the Cotswolds and the secret valley, a very different landscape of which I have so often written and blogged about.

It was here, in this tiny, hidden Cotswold valley, that my horticultural career developed beyond my wildest expectations, where I finally learned to ride a horse properly (I’d ridden badly from childhood) and where I became involved with both the Blenheim and Burghley International Horse Trials.  It was here where I was instrumental in the founding of both a County Gardens Trust and a Literary Festival, and where I received my commission to write my book, Why Can’t My Garden Look Like That?  It was here where I made new friends and became part of a new family: all of this wouldn’t have been so readily obtained without the constant support and encouragement of my long-suffering partner.  In fact, it was him seeing me writing away in a corner one day and asking what is the point if no-one ever read it, that sparked the idea of blogging regularly.

Considering all of the above, along with my passion for the remote and seemingly empty landscape of Exmoor, a National Park in England’s West Country, it comes as a surprise to many others – and perhaps even more to myself – that I/we shall be moving very shortly not just to a built-up area but to the very centre of a town, Cheltenham.  So after twenty-five years in the secret valley I am becoming a ‘townie’. Or, perhaps, a fish out of water?  I doubt it somehow for Cheltenham has some very special and unique qualities which I am looking forward to exploring.  It will be interesting to see how I adapt to town life and I am also looking forward to sharing my discoveries and thoughts through my writing, so watch this space…

Here are a few facts that I have gleaned during my time visiting Cheltenham.  First and perhaps of the greatest importance to me, it is very leafy for it boasts more trees than people.  It also has numerous green spaces, many award winning and these along with the little river that flows through the town are home to a great array of wildlife: I have been told of brown trout, kingfishers, otters and badgers all living there and, of course, foxes I am sure will pop up everywhere. Peregrine falcons breed on the church towers and, to my surprise, seagulls can be heard with their constant mewing. Another surprise has been the numerous fountains in the town although, perhaps I shouldn’t be, for it was developed in Georgian times for its natural mineral waters, very much like the more famous city of Bath. As a result of this, Cheltenham also boasts some very splendid architecture including its own version of the famous Bath crescent. Finally, Cheltenham is considered one of the Cotswold Gateways for the hills rise steeply from the town’s edge. To the west flows the River Severn, and the Malvern Hills and the Welsh Black Mountains are not far either. There will be so much to explore and write about both of town and of country so Life in the English Cotswolds, after seventeen years, is very much set to continue. I very much hope that you will be joining me on my latest adventure.

With so many open, green spaces, walks along the river that made the town so famous (more of that to come in the future), the architecture and fountains, let alone all the festivals and restaurants of which there are many, I think I’ll be fine. In the meantime, I shall remember my two favourite quotes from Richard Jefferies both written in 1885:

i) Those who love nature are the real artists

ii) So it seemed to me as a boy, sweet and new like this each morning; and now after the years that have passed, and the lines they have worn in the forehead, the summer mead shines as bright and fresh as when my foot first touched the grass…