We donned our boots in the quarry above the village -
An avenue of slender leafless trees led to the church -
I remembered the dark pews, the touch of cold stone -
Clavel Tower overlooked the bay - I pictured the Reverend John Richards Clavell, a book of sermons in his pocket, climbing its winding stair -
The January sun cast long shadows -
We set off along the ridgeway, the wind blowing from the west -
Three pheasants flew low across the path -
Sheep grazed the steeply sloping fields facing the sea -
Their eyes were like strange jewels - they walked in the light of heaven -
11.30
Wednesday 6 January 2015
Above Smedmore House
Purbeck
Dorset
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