The moor has always been part of my life. Its like a muse: the colours of the heather and the sky; how you can see the savagery of the wind in the way the dwarf pine trees are bent double, the bleak lines of the landscape in winter when everything save the moss and the grass are dead, stones like bones, poking through a thin skin of bilberry bushes, rushes reflected in black bog water.
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About Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child
Sanjida Kay, The Stolen Child.