|Lucy enjoys it up here|
Foggy today, we walk up our third walk in the village to the hollowway time has forgot, not the farmer though for there were deep holes where cattle had sunk in the mud. But this small piece of land full of slopes and ridges, harbours stunted hawthorns, gorse and deep holes where rabbits dig even deeper burrows - slightly ankle breaking!
The fog closes in the world, it is cold to bare skin but one can feel the presence of the sun behind it.
This is gloomy old medieval England when fairies and elves formed themselves from the twisted branches of the hawthorn and witches reigned in England. Untidy and unkempt a preserve for the ubiquitous pheasant and the rabbit.
|Up the 'green' lane|
|tangled hawthorn showing its' age|
|all mist and gloom|