The Berrier

A somber late afternoon in late fall.  You can hear a crow or two cawing, and the sound of a tractor working far away.  The serene moment is broken by a sudden rustling in the bush.  Then a big black dog bounds out from the inside of the thick brambles; very proud of herself; empress of the voles.  I loved that dog.

 Anthony Boughen

 Anthony Boughen

 Anthony Boughen