Country diary: Watching a skylark watching me | Elizabeth-Jane Burnett

Northam Burrows, Devon: Normally noted for their jump-jet takeoffs, this one is grounded, in among the wind-blown grasses, utterly stillThrough the shift of the grasses in the wind, through marram and fescue, in between the feathered seedheads is an eye, small and glittering. The skylark watches as I watch, both of us locked in the moment of encounter. On the path in front, a footstep away, it cocks its head, so I see the fullness of its crest as its eyes continue to arrest me. Dark and sparkling, they stand out amid the swathes of peach and beige - the grasses the wind shuffles and sways - so they seem to be the only things to stay in place.So often noted for its movement, the vertical elevation and parachute down, it is unusual to be struck by the skylark's stillness. Even as I want to hold on to it, to remain as long as possible in the pause, I am aware of new impressions beginning. Though we look at each other, peripheral details are starting to filter in. There is a second skylark, off to the side. There are golden cups of silverweed flowers facing the sky as the silver shimmer of their leaves sweeps across like frost. Continue reading...