We live in an area of big skies. I guess everyone does really, but we get to see a lot of ours. No mountains blocking the view, no skyscrapers. We live on a large clay plain.
There’s always a different picture painted on the sky. In the one above, I see a giant version of a standard died-while-changing-my-duvet-cover ghost looming over the fields.
It’s not always see-forever flat, the land undulates, sometimes deceptively. We are up to our necks in ancient archeology, much of it unexplored, as a neighbour found out to their cost when digging out for a kitchen extension:
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