Morning walk


It’s that time of year when the trees are silhouettes that let the light through the branches, the mist hovers over the fields, the sunshine tries to break through. Time to wrap up and hear the ground crackle under the walking boots.

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Author: natamagat

Random thoughts from a French incomer in rural England. Interested in the love/hate relationship between the English and the French (unavoidable), community matters (they affect us whatever nationality), tourism (my original career with an MA in Tourism albeit a French one), photography (images speak a thousand words, although only the good ones), and words (mostly English words with a few French ones thrown in) Pardon my Franglais if you will.

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