I love arriving on open land

Out of a sunken hedgerow
Where gorse and heather grow
Purple glows amongst the gorse
A trickling river makes its course
From mountain side to open sea
Past purple heather and Rowan trees
And through it all a simple breeze

Curious sheep
in Bracken deep

And up here I can see
Absolutely no body

A well worn path in view ahead Amongst heather and gorse I gently tread
A raven rumbles overhead
Reminding us of those long dead

And throughout this hillside trail
I start to sense a thinning veil
Connecting me to lives lived long ago
Of things that we will never know

The ancient forts, the burial grounds
The large lone rocks, the hillside mounds

I near the top, what can I see?
A hillside steeped in mystery
To the south a glorious sea
Castles to the east and west of me

Carpets of colour line my way
I pause to sense this special day

And at the top I see the north
The land of bluestone beckoning forth
And to the north more trails and stories
Of ancestors lives and glories

And a Wheatear on the rock by me My magic sign
I’m meant to be