cranes and the occasional siren somewhere in the smoggy haze. Like a scene from a modern adaptation of Dante’s Inferno, it made me wonder at man’s power to create ugliness in the midst of beauty.

There I stood, almost immobilised by this unexpected assault on my senses. But only f

Today I had an errand to run in a nearby larger town – a working-class place; defined by industrial estates, a busy shopping area and an airport on its outskirts. Surrounded by the gentle rolling English countryside, it stands out harshly, like the proverbial sore thumb.

Yet, on its south western edge, are the Downs – a surprisingly high range of chalk hills. I thought my dog would love a good run up there. Panting, and trudging through a mixture of cattle trodden mud and dung up an incredibly steep hill, I already regretted that misguided flash of inspiration. At the top, I turned to take in the view, and was left breathless.

Not with joy and pleasure, but with repulsed disgust. Beneath me a seemingly endless sprawl of tin warehouse roofs and dirty cottage facades, interspersed in the distance not with trees, but pylons, and run-down high rise apartments – all of this ugliness tightly shackled by grey concrete bands, bursting with incessant traffic seemingly heading nowhere. As if that weren’t enough, the lorries and cars were creating a deafening racket, together with the noise of concrete mixing machines, rubbish trucks, cranes and the occasional siren somewhere in the smoggy haze. Like a scene from a modern adaptation of Dante’s Inferno, it made me wonder at man’s power to create ugliness in the midst of beauty.

There I stood, almost immobilised by this unexpected assault on my senses. But only fo

s south western edge, are the Downs – a surprisingly high range of chalk hills. I thought my dog would love a good run up there. Panting, and trudging through a mixture of cattle trodden mud and dung up an incredibly steep hill, I already regretted that misguided flash of inspiration. At the top, I turned to take in the view, and was left breathless.

Not with joy and pleasure, but with repulsed disgust. Beneath me a seemingly endless sprawl of tin warehouse roofs and dirty cottage facades, interspersed in the distance not with trees, but pylons, and run-down high rise apartments – all of this ugliness tightly shackled by grey concrete bands, bursting with incessant traffic seemingly heading nowhere. As if that weren’t enough, the lorries and cars were creating a deafening racket, together with the noise of concrete mixing machines, rubbish trucks, cranes and the occasional siren somewhere in the smoggy haze. Like a scene from a modern adaptation of Dante’s Inferno, it made me wonder at man’s power to create ugliness in the midst of beauty.

There I stood, almost immobilised by this unexpected assault on my senses. But only f

the top, I turned to take in the view, and was left breathless.

Not with joy and pleasure, but with repulsed disgust. Beneath me a seemingly endless sprawl of tin warehouse roofs and dirty cottage facades, interspersed in the distance not with trees, but pylons, and run-down high rise apartments – all of this ugliness tightly shackled by grey concrete bands, bursting with incessant traffic seemingly heading nowhere. As if that weren’t enough, the lorries and cars were creating a deafening racket, together with the noise of concrete mixing machines, rubbish trucks, cranes and the occasional siren somewhere in the smoggy haze. Like a scene from a modern adaptation of Dante’s Inferno, it made me wonder at man’s power to create ugliness in the midst of beauty.

There I stood, almost immobilised by this unexpected assault on my senses. But only f

ise apartments – all of this ugliness tightly shackled by grey concrete bands, bursting with incessant traffic seemingly heading nowhere. As if that weren’t enough, the lorries and cars were creating a deafening racket, together with the noise of concrete mixing machines, rubbish trucks, cranes and the occasional siren somewhere in the smoggy haze. Like a scene from a modern adaptation of Dante’s Inferno, it made me wonder at man’s power to create ugliness in the midst of beauty.

There I stood, almost immobilised by this unexpected assault on my senses. But only f

cranes and the occasional siren somewhere in the smoggy haze. Like a scene from a modern adaptation of Dante’s Inferno, it made me wonder at man’s power to create ugliness in the midst of beauty.

There I stood, almost immobilised by this unexpected assault on my senses. But only for a moment; Cookie’s happy bounces and playful, tail-wagging nudges tugged me right out of the doomsday gloom of my thoughts. Watching her race downhill as fast as the ball I threw flicked a switch in my mind and suddenly the world was a beautiful place again.

With nothing but a shift in my attention I became aware of the birdsong from the nearby shrubs, the pastel coloured catkins waving gently at me in the early spring breeze. I noticed the bizarre and beautiful shapes the clouds were sculpting against a bright blue sky as the tender rays of sunshine kissed the back of my neck.

And here I was, on top of the world feeling grateful for these moments of beauty. Thankful for the insight and ability to see what was hidden in the spaces between the ugly patches of what we call civilisation.

It was then that I became aware again that we always have a choice. Whether we know it or not, it is our decision to make a day a great one, to create a horrendous experience or one of personal growth. We have the power to decide whether we see the ugly and hideous or the beauty in the little gaps in-between.

Every day we are fac