Hidden wilderness.
I live on the edge of a town, populated mostly from the 1950’s post war boom. Industry crowds every street and leaves ugly gray pebbledash in its wake. Just five minutes from the edge of my housing estate, lays a paradise only found in story books, classical literature and fairy tales. Damp, soft ground in every colour of brilliant mossy greens and Earthy browns. Mole hills errupt the uniform...
