I get paid by cheque, so each month I have to trek to the nearest branch of my bank to pay in my wages. As it happens, one of the most convenient places is Oswestry, which is no bad thing as it means I can take Bert for a walk at Old Oswestry Hill Fort. Bert loves it, because he can rummage in the bracken and brambles for bunnies, and I love it because I just think it’s an absolutely brilliant spot, a historic site full of atmosphere and with great views. In the spring it’s full of yellowhammers calling; in summer it’s all foxgloves and rosebay willowherb; in autumn the ditches and banks are covered in bracken and blackberry bushes.

On Friday, we made the trip, and we were lucky enough to have a beautiful, sunny evening. I ate blackberries and pondered collecting elderberries while Bert hunted for imaginary rabbits in the undergrowth. Even the slightly spooky, claustrophobic walk back through the over-head-high maize field didn’t dampen our spirits.


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