I have been visiting every summer, though last year I got there late and it had been cut for hay before I saw the wild flowers and orchids. This year I went this weekend, Easter Monday, and it is a carpet of cowslips. Later in the summer it will turn purple with a new wave of flowers. Then it will give a crop of dense, herb-rich hay.
Sitting in the little patch of woodland, that Patrick plan ted himself all those years ago, I have the feeling of being enveloped in the magic of nature left to its own devices. Patrick has bequeathed to us something very special.
I think I might start visiting several times a year ...
More about The White Field here; and about Patrick Whitefield here.