Out walking to where three valleys meet, past Dovestones, on a drizzly day. Low clouds hugging the hilltops, a grey shroud. Dampness on my skin, I become part of the day. Slowly soaked to the skin, walking with my friend. Earthy smell of wet grass assaulting my senses. Misty weather, a favourite of mine. Time taken away from me, nature’s world grey and grand. My eyes a camera, capturing ...

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I've been out to Dovestones walking. On the grassy slope by the woods to the right of the access road I found a letter. Hidden. Written by a goth girl on decaying paper. Past damp, full of holes and three bits of gum stuck to it. It told her story. Lock the tiger up, secure the house, said how down she is. I don't see her name. What's your name my dark angel? There's an envelo...

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