Bitter winds drove the sea against the land -
From Warren Hill, we could see the line of the coast -
White water hissed over shingle -
Not far from we stood, under the same timeless sky, tribespeople had tended their hearth fires -
Slim craft had traversed the harbour -
Hunting dogs had read the air -
Frail lives had been lived here from harvest to harvest -
Warm bodies had been beautiful -
Songs had been given to the air -
11.00
Friday 3 March 2017
Warren Hill
Hengistbury Head
Dorset
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