Below an ancient trail first used by Stone Age hunters, the South Winterborne river breaks out of the Dorset chalk hills and flows down a quiet, peaceful valley just a small crack in the planet.
There are countless such cracks and none are empty; things always fall in and get lodged there. In this one are kings and mansions, bones, gold, sacred stones, ghost villages, poets, angels, owls, oboes, frescoes, monks and much more... things older than history, younger than yesterday. Some stay, some move on and some, like the river, just vanish.
But only for a while...
There are countless such cracks and none are empty; things always fall in and get lodged there. In this one are kings and mansions, bones, gold, sacred stones, ghost villages, poets, angels, owls, oboes, frescoes, monks and much more... things older than history, younger than yesterday. Some stay, some move on and some, like the river, just vanish.
But only for a while...
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