The view out the front door of our house here in England. It stops me in my tracks every day. The sunset, the sunrise, heavy gray clouds full of rain, a clear blue sky full of sunshine - it doesn't matter. This view is always beautiful.
Across the street are fields full of hay and rapeseed. Late in the spring we started to notice small bright red bursts of color dotting the fields.
Poppies - considered a weed growing in a field of rapeseed, but it's hard to imagine that's a fair label for such a delicate flower.
Just down the street we catch a glimpse of the old stone church standing on the edge of these fields. We've watched wedding parties and funeral processions from this church that pass right by our house, giving us a chance to catch a glimpse of some English customs different from our own back in the states. Like the hats perched on top of some of the wedding goers' heads, fascinators as they are called here in England, and make no mistake about it, they are fascinating. And when the wedding is over, the church bells ring for half an hour.
One rainy morning there was a glass covered horse-drawn carriage parked out in front of the church with a driver sitting in his seat dressed in black while rain dripped from the brim of his hat. This carriage would carried a woman from the village in a basket right past our house to her final resting place just up the street.
We see a lot from our front door in this small English village.
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