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