The hard winter gave way to an early spring, with huge cumulus clouds cutting across the horizon and tripping over themselves, looking as if they might fall off the edge of the world at any moment. The hills and fields around us grew ripe with the golden sheen of daffodils and colourful clover, wildflowers that pushed their way up through crags and fissures, and the lively melody of birdsong. I’d watch the sea come crashing in with the tide, punishing the shore with a brutality that only the sea can bring.
AT THE EDGE OF A LONG LONE LAND
AT THE EDGE OF A LONG LONE LAND
AT THE EDGE OF A LONG LONE LAND
The hard winter gave way to an early spring, with huge cumulus clouds cutting across the horizon and tripping over themselves, looking as if they might fall off the edge of the world at any moment. The hills and fields around us grew ripe with the golden sheen of daffodils and colourful clover, wildflowers that pushed their way up through crags and fissures, and the lively melody of birdsong. I’d watch the sea come crashing in with the tide, punishing the shore with a brutality that only the sea can bring.