The beech tree frames the view: divided horizontally, half the fresh green of a June landscape, half blue sky with pale grey clouds,

In the distance, beneath the overhanging willows, pale sheep graze by the river. Rooks peck at grubs in the grass, its neat stripes cut off by the deep shadow of the yews.

Far away, an intermittent glimpse of a car flashes across the timeless scene, bringing the 21st century to mingle with the vestiges of the Roman road, the centuries of flooding the meadow to grow hay and the coppicing of the withy beds for weaving.