You get there by wading through the young aspen trees. Standing waist deep, the aspen saplings shivered as I passed. My path, made by cattle, then flowed down the field over the undulating waves of the rig and furrow, those humps and swells on the land that show where the ground was last ploughed 700 years ago. At last I’d reached the hawthorn.
06 June 2018, The Tablet
Glimpses of Eden
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