The ground a sucking sponge of moss and heather, tight tangles of reeds are interwoven with thick brown clumps of grass occasionally givingway to sticky mud-laden pools
this difficult terrain is fed by the gray heavy sky fit to burst with the power of waves sprinkling an unrelenting torrent that keeps the boggy ground rich in decaying plant matter the air heavy with the smell of moisture and churned soil.
A grey gritty gravel path meanders through the landscape sometimes giving way to planks of nailed down wood rapped in an enclosure of twisted wire, Defying the deep damp uncrossable mires.
This is an unwelcome human intervention as the swap laden moors constantly battle to reclaim its home with growths and puddles enveloping neglected parts of the pathway.
crooked signposts lazily point in vague directions the names of the locations carved deeply into the weeping Wood.