At the start of the second heatwave, we visit Jack’s twin and her family in Surrey. From our landmark clump of beech loaded with mast, the car brushes through lanes of rampant deciduous growth woven with bedstraw, honeysuckle and incipient fruits of bramble. Our neighbour’s cut and cleared hayfield overlooks luminous flowers of sweet chestnut, with dead ash in Nanie Rowe’s wood.
Across the Tamar, through a patchwork of woods and pastures, we meet the first lorry-load of straw – essential supplies from upcountry needed for winter bedding. By Exeter, the dampness eases off and the motorway cutting through red sandstone reminds me of fertile arable land, much of it encroached on by suburbs. Along slower stretches, I look sideways beyond the ubiquitous ragwort to pick out features such as the wooded eminence of Cadbury Castle. Near Ilchester, Somerset, trailers of chopped “cut-whole” straw stems and unripened grain are carted along the three-lane highway.
Ancient lynchets by Mere, Wiltshire, mark the start of proper chalk country, where coombs and winterbournes of rough pasture are interspersed with rolling downland of gold and brown cereals, some already harvested. Leafy green maize will be ensiled for winter fodder. Swags of old man’s beard clothe the bushy verges, and tumuli precede the always spectacular ring of people encircling Stonehenge.
Ever closer to London, this nervous passenger shuts her eyes to blot out the lanes filled with lorries and fast-moving traffic. Before the final straight, welcome relief comes with an afternoon picnic in the part-shaded haven surrounding Hatchlands Park, the country house built in the 18th century for Admiral Edward Boscawen and containing paintings and early keyboard instruments. As we descend Ranmore Common, heat increases around the 265-acre vineyard by Dorking; the River Mole is low and the windmill on Reigate Heath’s golf course overlooks our destination.
Home, after five days away, is hot; blackcaps have quietened; brown butterflies (gatekeepers, ringlets, coppers) flit from the seeding grasses to join admirals, peacocks and painted ladies on buddleia, marjoram and lavender. Blackbirds have cleared immature cherries, hollowed out early apples and gorged on unripe blueberries. Opposite home, sleek south Devon cattle range across the pastures, not yet scorched as in the long drought of 1976.
• Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian’s Country Diary, 2018-2024, is available now at guardianbookshop.com
