A walk with family, from Brooklands to Fairfield near Appledore, on the Marsh.
Rare and ancient cross-field paths, common electric fences and steel windmills. Swans nesting, and hawthorne raging
The marshan sewers and towering sentinels. Lambs alive, only minutes old, unsteady, as mother eats placenta from the ground, hind quarters raw.
A medieval sanctuary on reclaimed ground, the key collected from Thomas Beckett's farm and carried across the causeway, to unlock sticky doors and easing minds.
An accidental human ceremony. A rite of spring, and just a walk.