Visiting my field today I decided to enter from the opposite end. The hedge doesn't run round the entire border and can in fact be accessed from three sides. It's a large field, probably six acres and is cultivated sometimes but is presently set aside. As I think I've mentioned before originally it was common land. Some has been sold off and a number of bungalows built, so there is a right angled cut-out in its irregular shape.
The perspective from this end is completely different. What most immediately springs to mind is that there is no rape there only the tall barley stubble I'd remarked on when visiting for the first time. The barley stalks look wind-buffeted and there's a clear imprint of the wind's direction. I walked up the wide grassy and weedy margin on the right side of the field towards my usual spot, noticing that in fact the oil seed rape only covers a small section of the field, in fact it was really quite local to my spot. I glanced down ready to set down my stuff and was surprised to see the docks, so luxuriant last week now brown and collapsed looking. The explanation lay in the the huge prairie-like field where we'd observed a man spraying at the weekend, the one where I'd seen the sheep. His activity had changed the English pastoral image of a few weeks ago into a yellow killing zone. The wind in its turn had blown the weed killer into my field, felling the docks. A sad result, but surely the wind too was an explanation for the lemon-yellow rape seed flowers that had been delighting me so much.
With each visit I'm understanding more about the way the plants compliment one another: they seen to cluster together, an ecosystem finding its place among the flints. Here is thistle, red nettle and what I think, judging by the leaf shape and the images in my Collins Nature Guide, is forget-me knot with, as always, clumps of grass.