Chalk hill blue on wild mauve marjoram. Tall parched grass dotted with butterfly petals. A quilt of fields stretches to the horizon as silent barrows brood upon the hilltop.
History breathing gently in the late summer sun. Adonis blue, a speck of the Indian Ocean with its flutter of wings. And clouded yellow, whose vivid sun-gleam draws your eye. They rise and dance above the flowers, soaking up the warmth with their ephemeral beauty.
I wrote that back in 2013 when I visited Old Winchester Hill after I had recovered from a serious bout of M.E. that had lasted for about two years, and I was so happy to be back there. It’s always been a special place to me and my family.
I went there as a child and I’ve taken my sons there many times. After I wrote that poem, I was well for another couple of years and then I sadly fell ill again with M.E. and I’m still ill now and that’s been eight years.
But when I heard about this project and thought about where I would be if I could, Old Winchester Hill was just uppermost in my mind.
I can picture it so vividly now, even though I haven’t been there for such a long time.
I think its importance to me is space. With M.E. I can feel quite trapped. I’m housebound and not well enough to travel in the car, more than to the odd medical appointment. And I can picture in my head the space, and all my senses being in touch with nature, when I’m on the hill.
I can (in my mind’s eye) walk down to the gate and look across at the view and see that patchwork of fields and possibly in the far, far distance, hear sheep in one of the fields. I would be listening out for birds, yellow hammers on the gauze bushes or if it was springtime I would hear a willow warbler maybe in the Hawthorn. But the real star of the show that makes the hill so special, is butterflies, and in particular those magical blue butterflies that you only really find on chalk downland like Old Winchester Hill.
I took my sons there when they were younger and now my oldest son is an ecologist and his butterfly knowledge has, I suppose, helped me to see the little things, see the little insects in the grass, the little flowers and to watch and listen to them all. I hope when you’re on the hill today, whether it’s early morning or late afternoon, that you get to soak up some of that sound and smells and feelings of nature, and maybe a sense of the history that we all share, when we are somewhere like that.
