Leaving home, I wished a quick 'good morning' to Lady Buzzard who was taking a rest from her day on the roof of Big Black Van. I knew this was a particularly telling sign as I left for Anglezarke.
A fine mist dwelled on the upland, silvering the moors with a damp, wintery sheen and stealing the near horizon from view. Emerald mosses sponged between peaty pools, liberty caps poked their pointy crowns through the sheep shorn pastures as a raven sirened from an unseeable sky.
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