The gardener was digging in the walled garden when Louisa passed through the gate, tracing with her fingers its intricate metal work, oak leaves studded with acorns. The autumn sun was on his back and his muscles bulged in rolled-up shirt sleeves. She thought, ‘To be pretty for you I have dropped two seeds of […]
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
writing in north norfolk 