I felt the area was so welcoming.
Did someone say about the gentle majesty of our ancestors who are looking directly at us?
The path to Wayland's Smithy was winding and full of knots and gazes through the hedgerows.
I reflected on death and wasn't scared. We crouched down out of the wind and smoked a spliff remembering everything.
For me? It wasn't about the Smithy. It was about those meandering journeys which took me(us) there for a while which in turn led me to understand (more) how precious life is.
Those Roman roads lead me to those roads less trodden.
I thought of your friend x
and my friend.
x
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