Today was Dad's day out at Sharpenhoe Clappers.https://thechilterns.blog/sharpenhoe-clappers-whats-in-a-name/
I started at the edge of a field of wheat, at the foot of the the hill. A bright green ash tree shone against the dark Chiltern promontory with its towering beech trees: a pencil sketch.
Then I climbed the 141 steps to the top and found the knobbly floor of the beech trees' roof garden. It's quite surreal - a lattice of swollen twiglets woven into and across the chalky, beech-leafed hill-top: ink and watercolour.
It feels like a sacred space - and indeed memorialises the family's fallen from the First World War. I can't walk there without thinking of my great uncle Gordon who never came back from the third battle of Ypres 1917.
Then I climbed the 141 steps to the top and found the knobbly floor of the beech trees' roof garden. It's quite surreal - a lattice of swollen twiglets woven into and across the chalky, beech-leafed hill-top: ink and watercolour.
It feels like a sacred space - and indeed memorialises the family's fallen from the First World War. I can't walk there without thinking of my great uncle Gordon who never came back from the third battle of Ypres 1917.