I don’t know what Heaven will be like or if indeed I will be allowed through when I one day get to those pearly gates, but I was brought up to believe that it is a place where life will be ‘perfect’, there will be no pain, no sadness and a hell of a lot of singing.
I sing most mornings. When my son Simon still lived with me ( Slow and steady wins the race. ) he would often laugh as he found his mum singing a slightly ‘toned down’ version of songs by his favourite artists. ‘Ndubz’ would often be heard blaring ferociously out of his room at unearthly hours (oh the joys of an empty nest!). I only have to hear a tune once and I’m singing or humming it for days afterwards, even if at times it included lyrics that I didnt fully appreciate or condone. SIMON!! More often than not Im heard singing songs from a very old yellow chorus book from my childhood, mixed with whatever ive heard on the radio a few minutes before, but If I could choose what Heaven looked like then I think this would be it. This is my ‘Heaven on Earth.
Having enjoyed a much-needed trip to the beautiful, tranquil village of Hartington, nestled in the Peak District, on a very sunny, warm bank holiday weekend, I felt well.. …’Heavenly’.
The skies were a neatly ironed sheet of blue with not a crease or crinkle in sight. The sun was beating down and a fresh breeze was blowing, masking the heat but creating a holiday feeling which in turn helped create the best of memories.
Spring had definitely sprung. The countryside was speckled with bright yellow dandelion heads and friendly white daisies, making it a very serene place to sit and rest, while allowing the breathtaking view to work its magic.
The jumble of stones snaking their way across the fields is characteristic of the British landscape, especially in areas like the Lake District and the Peak District. For a while I was lost in imagination, and a little in awe as I pictured men and women out on these hills lugging stone by stone in all kinds of weather, clearing their pasture land and providing a way of managing their farms and controlling their animals. The building of these dry stone walls has evolved over a long period of time. They hold a lot of history and are an important part of our heritage. As well as being something to be enjoyed they also command a certain respect.
Nothing says ‘country walk’ to me more than a good stile or gate. I love their quirks and character, and the fun of getting over or through them. At the moment it is still a bit dicey for a girl with aches and pains, however it gave my man the chance to do his best ‘Sir Walter Raleigh’ impression as a sympathetic arm was offered to a damsel in distress.
There were moments as we walked through the beautiful scenery that I felt I was in another world altogether and thoughts of holidays taken glimmered in my memory.
I guess when we talk about a little bit of ‘Heaven on Earth’ we all have a different picture of what this looks like, but for me If I was allowed through those heavenly gates and this was what greeted me on the other side I know I would be happily singing for a very long time.
Love Alison x