back from travels in sussex
… back to my heath- well, it’s not mine, but i’m its- where me and Charlie-dog walk most days
it’s scrubby, scratchy, old land
getting on with itself, while noone is looking
there are dips made by glaciers, silver birch and oak trees, mainly, some rowan
the birch is out since i left, limey, and the trunks a turquoise glaze you couldn’t make up, no-one would believe you
a woodpecker today, and a peregrine falcon- there are a pair nesting on the cathedral spire nearby (4 eggs, apparently)
funny, how a place claims you
as if you were a nettle

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