I want to visit the British Isles. I live here, but I still haven’t seen as much of them as I’d like. In my mind, Great Britain and Ireland are the most beautiful, stunning places, that are rich in scenery and history that I never tire of.

I want to visit the historic castles of South East of England, see the gorgeous beaches of Cornwall and Dorset (again), visit the valleys in South Wales, take the steam train up to Helvellyn, go for a walk in a beautiful village in the Cotswolds, or take a boat trip on Lake Windermere. I want to see the gentle waterfalls and peaks of the Yorkshire Dales, go for a gondola ride up the peak of Ben Nevis, or visit the Cairngorms, the Isle of Skye and the Scottish Highlands. I’d like to drive the ring of Kerry, see the cliffs of Moher, and have a lazy weekend in Dublin.

These are my lands and I love them to the bones of me. Come rain, snow or windy weather, they have a rugged beauty that no other country can match. Why go anywhere else?

A Lane in Spring

A Little Lane, the brook runs close beside
And spangles in the sunshine while the fish glide swiftly by
And hedges leafing with the green spring tide
From out their greenery the old birds fly
And chirp and whistle in the morning sun
The pilewort glitters ‘neath the pale blue sky
The little robin has its nest begun
And grass green linnets round the bushes fly
How Mild the Spring Comes in; the daisy buds
Lift up their golden blossoms to the sky
How lovely are the pingles and the woods
Here a beetle runs; and there a fly
Rests on the Arum leaf in bottle green
And all the Spring in this Sweet lane is seen

John Clare (1793-1864)