The Same View Through The Seasons

The changing of the seasons rarely announces itself. There is no clear beginning or end, no moment where winter suddenly becomes spring or summer quietly hands itself over to autumn. Instead, one season gently folds into the next. The days lengthen, the air shifts and new colours appear in the landscape before we even realise they’ve arrived.

Perhaps that’s why I find myself returning to the same places again and again. 

Not the destinations that appear on postcards or the most “instagrammable” locations. Not the places where visitors queue patiently for the perfect photograph before moving on. The places I return to are quieter than that. More personal. Places that hold meaning for reasons that are actually quite often difficult to explain. 

One of mine sits on the edge of a field at the top of the ridge with views stretching for miles in both directions. There’s nothing particularly remarkable about it to anyone passing by. No signpost, no viewpoint marker, no reason to stop. Yet for me, it’s become one of the most important places I know. 

I climb over a barbed wire fence and nestle myself in a familiar corner out of sight and from there the landscape unfolds beneath me. I’ve watched rain move across the valley long before it arrives. I’ve seen autumn spread through the trees like a patchwork blanket of gold and copper. I’ve sat in the complete stillness of dawn where life, hustle and bustle is yet to begin and the world remains still. Every visit feels familiar, yet different. The view remains the same but the landscape is constantly changing. The seasons leave their mark and pass the baton onto the next.

I try and visit every month or so, not because I expect to see something extraordinary but because I enjoy noticing the subtle differences. The changes that might otherwise pass unnoticed. Sometimes I reflect on memories connected to places I can see from where I sit or pick up where I know that life will be carrying on whilst I take this time away. Other times I simply watch the clouds drift across the horizon, watch the sunset and enjoy the stillness. 

I’ve been visiting this ridgeline since my teens, and in many ways it has become a marker on life itself. While life around it has changed, the ritual has remained very much the same. The brain-clearing run or walk, the climb over the fence, the familiar corner, MY view. A small act of returning. That’s what can make certain places so special - not their popularity or beauty but the role they play in our lives. The comfort of knowing it’s there to carry us through all of life’s seasons.