Stories
Drawing by Jean Whitehead Wilde
A DRY STONE WALL
Back in 1941, seventeen, just resigned from the Civil Service, joined
the Women's Land Army.
Posted to the Lake District, to a training farm in Newton-in-Cartmel
called Hare Hills. A month of very tough discipline, make or break this
farm. Each girl chosen to fill a job she’s most suited to.
Escorted for a few days, a long climb up into the hills, to collect the
sheep, who were all over the place. The job took ages, these animals
jump about and react to any noise or movement. The object to bring them
down into the lower pasture, count them, 60 in all, then let them go.
Repeat this every morning and evening.
As time went by the job became a pleasure to me. Collect mushrooms for
breakfast, and repair the walls after the sheep had knocked them
asunder. Into the lower pasture, sit on the bank and count them. To my
side came an old Ram, waiting to have his head tickled, we were friends
from then on.
Like Life on Mars - teleport over the years to 2008.
This year joined an Art class; it is 70+ years since I was at Manchester
Junior Art School. Found I still had the touch! Each week a different
type of work. Week 7, Pen and Wash, all new to me. A fellow student lent
me a pen, the Tutor ink and brush. The result the above study. What
memories came back to me,
A DRY STONE WALL
So many of these I’ve repaired. Made me feel a young girl again, working
up in the hills.
Just dreams of course.
by Jean Whitehead Wilde