Posted on by dominiquefcameron

Normans Law.

The trees have a heavy dark green velvet curtain feel to them, as if they are being pulled open and shut in the cool wind that blows in from the Tay. They are starting to reach the end of their fullness, too tired to keep their youthful hue . Cows daunder on the fields edge and behind, Normans Law, rising to such a view it is worth the climb – north, south, east, west – river, mountain, tree. An ancient history here sings the yellowhammer and wren while the yew trees in the churchyard shift their weight in response, a dance for what its worth, a memory of younger times.

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