The Hills of Home

New vistas have opened up since they felled the plantation at the top of the hill last year. The track is churned up by the trucks that took the timber away and the dry weather this year has baked it into deep, hard ruts. It's tiring to walk on. The wind, sweeping in in violent gusts, didn't help. We only managed a mile or so before turning back. And now I'm struggling to stay awake. 

It's surprising how quickly the forest floor has regenerated - grass, ferns and foxgloves almost hiding the stumps.