Before

Each weekend was a curst return from pitch-black, boot-filled, lifeless ditches, each boy scolded for deep cuts and rips off furrow-tripped meadows. We ranged, untouchable, free, across fallow farmland, never knowing every acre was doomed. The River Addle, our course of choice, went first, piped and diverted. Next came the laying of black lanes for … Continue reading Before