Why Do You Love History? A Journey Through Time and Nature

The Importance of History in Our Lives

Why do you love history? It is a question I am often asked. The simple answer would be, why not?

The truth is, I see history everywhere and every day. Tomorrow, today will be history; therefore, we must make today count. I appreciate that many people place more importance on the future than on the past; I understand that. It is a question of balance.

Failing to look ahead and plan can lead to a messy society. We need those who forecast what lies ahead. However, we must also learn from past mistakes and strive not to repeat them.

A Journey Through the Countryside

We recently drove south of the Scottish-English border. The past and present blend together in their unique way during a motorway journey.

Firstly, I must say that the amount of greenery and woodland never ceases to amaze me. Great Britain is a comparatively small country. When I am in a city or town, it is easy to imagine that every square inch is populated by houses, shops, and architecture. Some buildings are decidedly lacking in architectural charm, but there are still lots of people.

When it was my turn to be a passenger, I allowed myself the luxury of drinking in our wonderful countryside. I savoured it like a fine wine from a local vineyard (yes, we have those in Britain).

On certain parts of the journey, I looked at field upon field, hill upon hill, showcasing numerous shades of green. From lime, chartreuse, and apple to emerald, sage, and olive, the green was speckled with rusts and golds. It was interwoven with dashes of pink and smatterings of yellow. Some fields were divided by blue ribbons of trickling water meandering amongst riverbanks and stones. Tumbling frothy white waterfalls rushed towards their terminuses, and, of course, there were acres of lovingly tended fields of crops for the benefit of humans and animals alike.

The Beauty of Farm Life

A plethora of farm animals furnished dry stone-walled fields. Cattle in varying shades of warm honey, dark treacle, and golden blonde grazed lazily. Some even looked like a smattering of humbugs on the hills in the distance. I was delighted to see some highland cattle, my favourites, because they remind me of Layla, our Newfie!

Horses foraged, bolted, and danced to their own tune. There was a healthy mix of ruined and pristine buildings, from castles to elegant stately homes. These structures nestled snugly in dips and atop mounds, defying the passage of time, often surrounded by ancient woodland.

Delightfully dippy and docile sheep, with fast-growing lambs, grazed contentedly on sprouting flora. I saw a devoted farmer with a clever sheepdog in tow, seemingly speeding in their UTV packed with buckets of pellet food for the flock. From a distance, they looked like munching cotton wool puffballs with sticks for legs.

Imagining the Past

As we drove, my mind drifted, soaring like a bird of prey surveying the land. I imagined what the ruins looked like when they were in use. Who lived and worked there? What did they eat? What did they wear? What was happening in the country at that time? Was there a war? Who was the monarch? My imagination took flight, partly thanks to author and television presenter Ruth Goodman. When I read her books, I drink in the overabundance of social history. It makes me thirsty for more. That woman can bring the past to life with such passion; I adore her work.

It is easy to think that not much has changed in the British countryside for centuries. The landscape is dotted with necessary pylons, wind farms, and telecommunications towers. That said, I am blessed with the remarkable ability to block out the 21st century. I can also overlook the miles of grey motorway planned by those looking to the future. This motorway is a necessary addition to the landscape, and I am grateful for it on journeys like these when I am anxious to reunite with family.

Creating Lasting Memories

Both of my daughters are fortunate. They live in historical English towns surrounded by beautifully preserved buildings and structures. We walked on cobbled streets, embraced the atmosphere, shared meals, met new people, enjoyed conversations, and created memories that will last a lifetime.

One special memory for me was sitting on the patio as darkness fell on our balmy last evening together. Fairy lights twinkled, and flowers swayed in their unique floral dance, reacting to the gentle breeze. The moon shone in the cloudless sky as my daughter's partner played ‘The Wild Mountain Thyme’ on his guitar. It is a hauntingly beautiful love song, one of my late mother’s favourites. It is a song about the arrival of summer, encompassing all the sights, scents, and senses that accompany that long-awaited arrival. A magical evening indeed.

Living in the moment while creating our personal history, surely there is nothing better?

JHW July 2025.

socialhistory ruthgoodman countryside history lovesongs scotland england farmanimals

“Oh, the summertime is coming, And the trees are sweetly blooming, And the wild mountain thyme grows around the blooming heather.

Will you go, lassie, will you go? And we'll all go together, pull wild mountain thyme all around the blooming heather, Will you go, lassie, go?

I will build my love a bower by yon clear and crystal fountain, and all around the bower, I'll pile flowers from the mountain.

I will roam the country o'er Through that dark land so dreary; And all the spoils I find, I'll bring to my darling dearie.

If my true love, she won't have me, I will surely find another pull wild mountain thyme All around the blooming heather.

Oh, the summertime is coming and the trees are blooming and the wild mountain thyme grows around the blooming heather.”

The lyrics and melody are based on "The Braes of Balquhither," a song by Scottish poet Robert Tannahill Smith and composer Robert Archibald. Adapted and popularised by Irishman Francis McPeake (1885-1971).