Country diary: Bright and bohemian, this moth could be a David Hockney | Paul Evans

The Marches, Shropshire: Scarlet tiger moths are on the wing at our allotment, taking advantage of the sunny days – and our human activity

The jackdaw takes three hops and is airborne, swinging into a warm dry wind, back over the fence to the northern side of the plateau. Jackdaws and rooks lift from careful stepping into the wind to fly and call, mingling with singing voices from the school nearby. The corvids are shadowing the sheep, Soay/Hebridean cross breeds that graze the Old Oswestry hillfort or Hen Ddinas (Old City in Welsh). Black birds, black sheep, green grass.

This scene echoes through a thousand years of occupation until the Roman conquest on this high space ringed with earthwork ramparts. The sheep are the closest to those farmed by the iron age tribal people of the Cornovii – the people of the horn. Impressive and tough, these horned black sheep step out of history with the same confidence in their place here as the birds.