Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

The road was calling me north and I couldn’t wait to finish work and give in to its blandishments. The sun was shining and warm, the forecast unusually good for England. The fields were ablaze with the brilliant yellow of rapeseed, the hedgerows, bending beneath the weight of May blossom, awash with wildflowers. Pink campions covered the roadside, pale blue forget-me-nots, bright starry ransom and banks of anemones, and, in the shade of the trees, carpets of bluebells linger. The dandelion clocks swayed in the breeze, sending fairy-like seeds up in clouds to dance beneacth the trees. It was a glorious day.

As my job extends over seven days each week and any day off is deducted from my holiday entitlement, I make the most of these trips north for the monthly meeting of the Silent Eye, so the journey is part of the adventure. Refusing the mind-numbing boredom…