Silver birch broken,
Lonely stump above the moor,
You still look alive.
I went for a run earlier, Spring is definitely in the air! The air was clean, the sun was shining. My eyes were caught by something pale and silvery, standing up alone in a cleared part of the moor. As I wasn’t wearing my glasses, momentarily I wondered if I was looking at a dog, like a dalmation, with the sunlight reflected off its fur. But it was the stump of a cut down silver birch. Its trunk still looked lustrous and beautiful and it sat sad in the middle of the clearing.
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