Where birds grow.

The clouds have stolen summer away. On top of the hill you can see where they are taking bites at the land. Everything is beaded with drops of bright water.




We found a place where the birds grow. There are feathers in the grass. In a few days, if we go back by the same path, through the long grass tunnel of the badger track, maybe it will have grown more. She collected some feathers, maybe to make wings.




The path was steep and the clouds rolled back and the sea was the colour of slate.




Elmo got stuck, balanced between posts with only sharp wire beneath.




On the way back it started to rain and so we hurried home to the cosy chair in the kitchen and curled up together and Elmo dreamed of falling. But first we licked the rain water from each others coats.