Logs

These were at the entrance to someone's garden.
Well, I say garden: it's a dark, spooky, lengthy, narrow, tree-cannopy-covered plot of land, around the corner from my mum's house.

When we were little, we convinced ourselves a giant was buried there because of the undulations in the grass (?). We'd dare each other to run to the very end and back again. Absolutely terrifyingly thrilling for a child. I don't suppose I'll ever feel such a feeling again. Although that's probably for the best, I doubt my arrhythmia could take it.