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I sat on the bank in the spluttering rain eating a sandwich and watching an aeroplane coming down the line of the valley. It was like a great cumbersome glider in slow motion, high still, and quiet in the wind but coming down stage by slow stage, maybe to land at Newcastle. The pilot watching the line of Hadrian’s wall to his port window and the Tyne valley to his Starb’d; down, down. Another swig from the flask, drop my stuff back into the bag, over the style and following a dry stone wall up past farm buildings, a new bungalow, a shiny 4x4 and a filthy tractor, down the edge of a fresh-turned field and through some coppiced Elms to cross a lane where a dead rabit lay – too slow for the traffic that day.The sun breaks through and there ahead is my goal for today. A tiny stone building on the bend, with a sign that reads “The Plough” Ales of renown.
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Posted by Triforium on 2007-11-05 07:08:09 | Rating: | Views: 91
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I see a lot of road kill too. Nice entry.
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Posted by SubTomato
on 2007-11-07 16:32:48
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Good post. Nothing to beat a nice meander through the hilld and a pie and a pint at the local hostelry. I used to do that with a few friends when I was in the UK.
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Posted by scotslad60
on 2007-11-08 07:16:23
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