One of the joys of walking the same land for years is noticing change.
Like the boy’s field on the other side of the valley. An undisturbed pasture with only natural fertiliser, it is developing its own song.
Last week I noticed at least six different fungi, some with stunning colours and others with fantastic architecture – all close by.
Where do they come from?
From the soil, teeming with life, which is allowed to express itself.
What else might we find in the dark places if we weren’t satisfied with surface living?