Two kinds of lines

      The lines and curves described by the dead Norfolk Reed and those described by the corrugations on the Nissen Hut that I pass every day with the two Jack Russell terriers on their walks. Things that you take for granted until you look a little closer, then it becomes like an art form.
      The new growth on the reed is already shooting skywards and the Reed Warblers are already busy selecting nesting sites, by the time the new growth reaches maximum height there'll be six to ten pairs raising their young along the straight dyke, I can never find their nests I just hear the incessant warbling of the parents and see the reed shaking as they move around deep in the stem forest.
      In the Nissen Hut all you hear is the wind, the dead nettles chafing the outer skin and the sound of the Little Owls scratching around their nest in the double skin of the old wartime building.