Rosie disapproves of the shadows and insists on walking higher up the valley in the sun.
This long hill was a hill fort. It's a pity about the dark conifer plantation on the end, it means you can't see the shape of the end of the fort. Perhaps eventually the Duchy of Cornwall will get around to replacing the conifers with broadleaves, as with the rest of the wood.
More sunbeams, Brythen posing, but Rosie has run off to poke her long nose down rabbit holes.
Eventually, I made an arrest, when she decided she was bored of wearing her muzzle and would come and rub it vigorously on my leg to get me to remove it from her.
Admiring a mine chimney.
Oh dear. Time to go home, and that means... going down into the shadows. Rosie disapproves.
