What a feast for the senses!
The first thing to hit you is the warmth of the sun on your face with just a hint of a breeze to make it fresh. Then you catch sight of the blue, blue sea; under a blue, blue sky; across the vivid, green fields of barley. But then, the most life affirming thing of all; the sound of skylarks singing their little hearts out, high in the blue. The most glorious sound. To our ears the skylarks sound unremittingly and unconditionally cheerful, optimistic, even celebratory.
If you have never been lucky enough to hear this sound, Coleshed would urge you to seek the opportunity to hear them.
We used to frequent a disused airfield ……. (hmm? could that sound dodgy?! well, to clarify, this is open space suitable for dog walking and running.)
…… anyway… the old WW2 concrete runway is all cracked and split and is being colonised by grasses and wild flowers. For skylarks, being ground nesters, this is an ideal habitat. On an early summer morning, a run along the airfield would be treated to a joyous skylark accompaniment.
On this glorious day at Brownstone last week, I did want to capture the sound to share with you dear reader! but I was unable to make any sound recording. However, I did take the trouble to take a photo;
You may need to squint a little!
The track leads half a mile down to the headland and on the way you pass what is called the Daymark.
When you first catch sight of this monument, it may look small; but to paraphrase the legendary Father Ted Crilly; the skylarks are small, the Daymark is far away.
It was built back in 1864 to act as a navigational aid for shipping heading into Dartmouth, and still stands rather proudly on the headland, surrounded by barley.
Look out for Part 2 as Coleshed continues Brownstone Adventure.