Saturday, 11 October 2014

The edge of the wild

After an hour of ascent we came to the edge of human interference.
Beyond was rough heathland up to Crags and cliff, stiff with the territorial energetic roaring of stags in rut. We stayed close to the fence and traversed the mountainside in case the stags decided to charge.
They were annoyed by our presence, tearing across the mountainside, each hoof-strike exploding into mist.

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