The Tyrant's Face Is Red
On a suitably bleak and soulless day we ventured further afield to revisit the evocative ruins of Hopton Castle, in the village of the same name.
I was frozen to the core, and I am not convinced it was just the wind that sent chills through my body.
I love it here, and it's a place where one's imagination can be set free.
Mrs I and Hollie enjoy it too, the ground underfoot is perfect for a happy spaniel.
We had a good hour before retiring to the warmth of Ludlow Farm shop and tea room at Bromfield.
Bliss.
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