Long walk in the warm glaze of afternoon in “rural” Hawkhurst. Terrified by the tiny cars whizzing three inches from my body on lanes not quite wide enough for two Tonka trucks, I detoured through a graveyard surrounded by meadows and vast hillsides peopled only by birds and dragonflies, the greenery topped with butercups. A public footpath winds around a pasture where a white horse grazes, long tail swishing, and then leads me to the road where a 5 ton lorry hurtles by, blowing my hair straight up. Old and new, ancient and modern, all here in a jumble.
Obviously some challenges with posting from the iPhone. Worse I can’t seem to correct the strange breaks. Oh, well.
Don’t worry about the breaks, it’s just lovely to ‘hear’ your thoughts. I love that juxtaposition of ancient and modern. I remember when my mother took me to Holland to visit family, when I was 14, and standing on a Roman road on the outskirts of the village Mum was born in. Just the thought of centuries of foot traffic and other various forms of transport travelling that road blew my mind away. (Probably much like that 5 ton lorry blowing your hair straight up *g*)
I agree with Yvonne, Barbara. The occasional odd space, that’s just editing. Your lovely descriptive phrases draw us.