Maps and Cloudscapes

My 1951 Bartholomew map of the Vale of Severn is a different definition of this landscape. It seems to define where we are in relation to the Severn river, rather then the Wye which modern maps do. A different orientation of river landscapes; Lugg, Teme, Wye, Severn. The higher ground is marked in shades of browns, and the highest hills here are in the Radnor Forest, which is a dark chocolate brown. The land falls from there towards Worcester and Stourport which are in pale green flat areas. The county and national borders snake across the map but the further west you go the higher the land; the brown sits on the left of the map like a raincloud.

This afternoon we drove to Monkland and left the hills for the flatter landscape of the Arrow river. (Never was a river so mis-named; rarely have I seen a more twisty river. Perhaps the name has evolved from something else.) After a morning of snow-clouds and white-outs the landscape opened up and seemed flatter and therefore much bigger. The clouds were piled up in the blue sky as I imagine they are in the American west, gentle white forms growing and towering into great thunderheads over vast flat plains. I wanted to stop the car, lie in a field, watch them moving and changing. I love the hills and after five years on the flat coast of western Lancashire they are very welcome, but flat open landscapes give huge sky and cloudscapes and this afternoon their soft threat was very beautiful.

And after a quiet sunny evening the clouds have closed in again and the light has turned a sickly greasy brassy colour, like unpolished trumpets; the valley has disappeared and the trees are reduced to silhouettes. But the snow will not stick and in five minutes the sun will be shining again.