Solitude in Seighford

The bells of St Chad’s ring out in the distance.

Other than the strike of nine there is only birdsong.

I could be in another century. It’s timeless here.

I walk Moor Lane. The peace and tranquility at 9am is wonderful. Moor Lane is really just a gravel track that leads from the ford that gives its name to the village of Seighford and leads up to the railway line. In around an hour I see only two dog walkers – one of whom is a ringer for Jeremy Clarkson – and a poodle and a dachshund.

Moor Lane leads up a ridge surrounded by steep hawthorns and cutting between fields busy with herds of dairy cattle. Apart from a London, Birmingham or Liverpool service shooting past only the birdsong breaks the silence. Over the railway is Shaky Bridges…