Manors maketh man

My daily commute, via the school run and sometimes via my parents, takes me on a couple of deeply familiar routes. This is through Somerset, mid Somerset, and specifically the Somerset south of Glastonbury.

Although all commutes are repetitive, and our thoughts mostly anticipate the day ahead or assess the day that’s been, I feel that those thoughts are put into perspective with this half hour commute through nature. I say ‘nature’, but the countryside I pass through is very much shaped by man. Hedgerows, ditches, orchards, waterways, lanes, footpaths and fields. They are the evidence of a perseverance and determination to live off the land, to better one’s lot.  Nature, however, follows its own course, regardless. It reassures us simultaneously that ‘now’ is just fine, things will change, and nothing is forever. Even in the bleakest February it’s full of colour, texture and contrasts.

Lots of places shape us. With a childhood growing up abroad (in several exotic countries), college ‘up North’ and a career that has been largely London and New York based  (with lots of overseas travel for pleasure and business thrown in), I’ve had more than my fair share of places. But this little area is home.

It’s my manor.


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