It’s a very pleasant feeling to be in a position to regard the Chatsworth Estate as an extension of our back yard, or maybe the Duke of Devonshire regards Crich as an extension of his. I was contemplating this while strolling round the inside perimeter of the Duke’s Ha-ha, which presumably had once kept jolly swain such as I out of his flowerbeds.
It’s because the estate is our backyard that we often encounter people we know and stop to chat, putting a distance equivalent to the girth of a Giant Redwood between us. In the summer the conversational script usually celebrated the weather and the beauty of this location in which to be locked down. Now, very quickly, people are sharing the sensation of being on an emotional roller coaster. There was I thinking I had a monopoly of grumpiness, now I have all these competitors. The Covid pandemic has trailed a Seasonal Affective Disorder epidemic in its wake. It seems many of us are being fired from depression to positivity like a marble in a pin-ball machine. Folk who always seemed to ride above the oscillations of fortune now admit to moodiness and mania, depending on the moon, the news, the weather, vaccine progress, R Numbers. It’s certainly leading to some authentic conversations and a realisation that none of us are immune to mental health issues.
At least the late afternoon shone on the west face of Chatsworth and sparkled in the
fountain . As it grew dark the Christmas lights came on and we were prompted to review our Christmas lighting and plan to buy some different ones this year. This may mean a ruthless reappraisal of some of the sets we already have. In the past I’ve always believed that as long as one flickering bulb functions on a string of lights it should go up and a plug found somewhere. This led one year to the enquiry if any aircraft had ever tried to land on our drive between the snow projector and the icicles. Connoisseurs of the elegant and stylish effects to be found at places like Belton House may be surprised that people as urbane and tasteful as we are reputed to be, would turn our front garden into something resembling an amusement arcade at Matlock Bath.
But this year in particular we want to celebrate light along with the rest of Crich – tacky light, guiding lights, starlights, twinkling, flashing, sober, pulsing, fading, glowing, over-the-top, red-nosed, soft, coloured, dazzling and today at least – sunlight. If we’re going to ride the roller-coaster together, let it be brilliantly lit.