Tag Archives: Farm

The Wheel

Discarded and decayed: most farms have this corner, the space where things are left. Not intentionally to rot, but a purposeless place. Things that have run their course. Mangled machinery. Broken down, perhaps with a vague notion that it will … Continue reading

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Grounded by the mud on my boots

Fire forms the beating heart of the house: by day, just a background image, flickering weakly, demanding food every few hours. By night though, as the darkness crawls up the side of the valley, it reaches out: a red flame, … Continue reading

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Market Towns: the places we gather

I was driving through the New Forest yesterday: as the sun was out i went right through, passing through towns and villages as well as wide open spaces and tracts of woodland. The Forest is an old landscape, shaped by … Continue reading

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