Saturday 9 October 2010

136

Warm air, probably the last of the year is washing round me as my booted feet dip into the soggy peat. Sheep concerned for their futures want to run this way and that - but can't. I smell the distinctive smell of Golden Virginia on the air intermingled with the acrid aroma of sheep dip. I look up into the blinding sun, see shapes, raise the camera and shoot.

No comments:

Post a Comment

You are always welcome to leave a message as we are really pleased to hear from you!