Corsham court

Corsham court


The leaves aren’t moving as much here, they slightly sway with the breeze. The sound of water fills my ears, although I haven’t unearthed where this is coming from- almost like the sound of a running bath or a perfectly positioned water feature. I can see the gardener’s wheelbarrow ahead of me, overflowing with the weeds and remains from a successful day of gardening. The Gardner’s shovel sits perfectly next to it half sunken and consumed by the mud and soil. The rake and hedge cutters are cautiously rested against the perfectly trimmed hedgerows. I catch the cobwebs next to me tangled between the green garden bench gently glistening when the light catches them. It feels a lot damper and the sunlight escapes through the gaps between the leaves. There are overgrown patches of grass in this maze like garden. As I leave my position I can see a squirrel frozen in stature as it hears me walking towards it. The banging of the door and the gardener emerges from the hedgerow ready to finish today’s maintenance. I crunch through the orange leaves that conceal my path waving off the flies that buzz around my neck.

I walk besides the grand exterior of Corsham Court noticing the gargoyles heads perfectly placed above mine as I sit down on the flimsy bench. They stare down with their mouths open and their faces full of fear watching my movements as I marvel over the view. The worn out bench feels shaky and unstable, I can see moss growing on the sides with light shades of white inhabiting the wood. I lean on the precarious backrest, which feels almost brittle. Behind me the wide windows house a selection of cobwebs.

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I can hear the crisp breeze; the sound of sheep grazing and the geese honking overhead catches my attention. I can see strands of grass dancing in the wind and the cold air brushing my hair across my face. I hear the rustle of the leaves on the trees and the creaking of this worn out bench. At first I focus my attention on the view ahead. Rolls of green countryside with docile sheep grazing on the grass I can hear them crunching the leaves under their feet. They take shelter under the trees looking out onto the almost picture perfect view.

A peacock has poked his head around the corner checking up on me perhaps. I can’t help but feel watched by the gargoyles overhead and the peacock’s gaze. He patrols the vicinity, taking the occasional breather to peck the dry pasture. It’s feathers are rich in emerald and royal blue with an almost sparkle to it.

It’s not very often you can just sit, breath and take a moment of serenity from the commotion that our lives entail. I look at my watch and it’s as though time has stood still for that very moment.


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