Emmonsail's Heath in Winter

I love to see the old heath's withered brake
Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze and ling,
While the old heron from the lonely lake
Starts slow and flaps his melancholy wing,
And oddling crow in idle motions swing
On the half rotten ashtree's topmost twig,
Beside whose trunk the gipsy makes his bed.
Up flies the bouncing woodcock from the brig
Where a black quagmire quakes beneath the tread,
The fieldfares chatter in the whistling thorn
And for the awe round fields and closen rove,
And coy bumbarrels twenty in a drove
Flit down the hedgerows in the frozen plain
And hang on little twigs and start again.

Have a look at these three sites for a glimpse of Woodbury Common (see posting below)... just a few minutes up the road from our home... unchanged in centuries.

http://www.clintondevon.co.uk/the_commons/index.shtml

http://www.exmouth-guide.co.uk/woodb.htm

http://www.bbc.co.uk/devon/outdoors/walks/woodbury_common.shtml