Boot time, beer time



A lazy walk today. Crows low over the cropped fields. Acorns an inch-thick underfoot along the narrow woodland path. Re-tying my bootlace on a log riddled with ladybirds. A green lane flashing with a dozen chaffinches, dipping their way before me.

Eight-and-half miles. To build up a thirst for four pints of Steel City Escafeld. Sat in my fridge, in a carry-keg. And now being drank deep, half a pint at a time


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