Some places feel “enchanted”. The ancient Celts talked about “thin places” where they sensed something divine.

The Long Mynd in Shropshire is one such place for me. In the morning there is a special kind of silence there, broken only by the occasional chirping of birds, the bleating of sheep and the whinnying of wild ponies.

~

The earth is still enchanted

By these worlds we have not planted

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Wild moor

And hill

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The silence of these places

Has power to move me still.

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