Grid Reference: NT977272
The ascent of Humbleton to the Iron Age hillfort.
The Battle of Humbleton September 14 1420.
The sky is bigger, better, here.
It settles in the treetops – sketches
distant pencil lines
from left to right.
Such detail.
Black-face sheep, blue numbered,
vast & herded.
Sheets of silvered pools, collected in
the cleft of Longwood scree.
Rain water, orange leaves & horses of
many hands, alone,
intent on something unseen by humans.
Everything is wet.
We walk the woods.
The path is carpet.
We know the way of old.
Guests among the ghosts.
The trees are sobbing.
They echo
the sodden space between
where mushrooms bloom & redbreast watches,
sideways from a twig.
Here is a stream with knuckled rock.
And, here, atop the hillfort,
a hollow knuckle for a bunker.
Lunchboxes:
Raymond: banana & black, sweet tea (he is buddhist in his midday undertaking).
Spanish Ian: roast chicken & bacon sandwich (reduced to 30p from M&S! Bargain!?). He also has a salad but I see him spit it out. When asking after said salad, he replied, “it tasted of vinegar.”
Malcolm: Cornbeef & onion & mayo sandwich (staple) & tea.
Nick: Scotch egg, ploughman’s sandwich, mini cheddars. Apple juice.
nickreeves 
Even if the trees were sobbing, and you walked among ghosts, the scenery is breathtakingly beautiful, Nick.
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Wild and untamed.
Thanks for following my posts and have a peaceful Xmas.
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