Skip to main content
Read page text

Harrier?   Deergrass and alder and rowan, and roe deer strutting behind them, and wrens everywhere yapping and hidden, and grass of Parnassus spread, dull meadowsweet dead for the year:   lead your mind back and re-follow that trail down from the fields and the fit, frit pheasants, to loop past carr and the oil-slickened water it hung in, retting, gouged through the front   as autumn was carving and taking off summer – paler sun, sharper wind, too-soon dusk reminding us we’d miles to go and time was shortening. Years ago.

7

My Bookmarks


Skip to main content