Sitting on the ‘saddle’ Twix two hills a valley flows out before me to the village below.

The flanks of the valley gently rolls down to the basin bathed in grassy fields segmented and captivated in enclosures.

Stunted trees exposed to the onslaught of the wind coming over the ‘saddle’ are scattered around the fields. Hedgerows connect to and extend beyond the trees giving a natural fencing complimenting man made structures hewn from the hills.

Coarser grass noted by a more ‘warm’ colour sweeps down from the hilltop, seamlessly connecting to the sweeter grazing grass to which sheep amiably wander around.

Shadows flow through the valley as the clouds mask the progress of the sun.

A breeze picks up, whistling its progress as it freshens the air.

Birds hanging in the breeze apparently effortless as they scan the ground for food.

Wings fold back as they plunge downwards to their unwary prey, claws move forward and extend moments before the strike is made, a connection is made, the deed is done, and the bird heaves itself up and back to the nest.

Sheep continue grazing as the end came, even the mad flapping of wings as the bird heaved itself up into the air failed to raise a flicker of interest.

A finger of earth details a path as it meanders down the hill following the contours of a ground laid down centuries before, through the upper grazing lands and onto a ribbon of black tarmac leading to the village.

Enshrouded by stone walls and edged by a grass verge the road plays host to a larder of creatures in their mistaken belief of sanctuary.

At the foot of the valley surrounded by trees and entered by road, the village stands proud as its structures blend and compliment as a part of the valley it is.

Walking through the village signs of cobbles show through at the side as the tarmac fades out into a gutter. Stone flags edge the gutter making a safe haven for village folk. The smoothness of the stone varies across its face showing sign of the thousands of feet as they trample along.

Dwellings stone built, aged with the wind and rain stand proud next to shops displaying their wares, a fragrant smell of freshly baked bread floats across the street as it meets the aroma of coffee waiting to be served within the centre of the village.

An oasis of green encircles and surrounds a monument to those past, surrounded by flowers and benches at the centre point that is the heart of the village.

Nestling between shops a café sits adjacent the benches enticing those to rest and rejuvenate, focussing the aromas of village life.

The bell tolls from the village church as it marks the passage of yet another hour of life, songbirds send forth their song and the chatter of people surround a haven of natural peace.

A small stream is heard in the distance, its distinctive sound of flowing hypnotises into serenity and adds to the completeness of imagery with sight and sound.

As the day draws in and the light fades out a pathway through windows leads to a house where the sanctuary can be continued for yet another day.