The sun shone this morning, so I took a walk through the damp wood up onto th old Iron Age hill fort at Dolebury. The path outside our house is developing a definite groove eroded by the rainwater, and the wood paths are washed clean and smooth apart from the gluey mud where water collects. On the hill top, the sun brought out the colours of the woods, hilltops, the towns of Weston and Clevedon. Even the murky Severn Estuary gleamed wanly, a little less brown than usual. The flush of pleasure at seeing enhanced colours reminded me that I must check the Green Party's Culture policy to make sure it includes the importance of painting the town red. Well, not red exclusively, but all the other colours of the rainbow. The depressed person sees the world as grey. Conversely, people living in a grey (as in concrete) environment will become subtly depressed. So let's have high quality graffiti and wall paintings everywher, and let's paint up dilapidated concrete and rusting iron structures in pleasing tones. Paint protects against rust and rot too.
Checking that I was alone (I was - more land than you can shake a hazel walking stick at, all to myself) I took out my whistle and played the Laggan air to the sheep. I love the unique, mysterious chord changes that it contains. The sheep seemed to appreciate it.
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