In which I imagine an older wood of hazel and bees, meet a pony guarding the way west to Hasley, and walk among raindrops sparkling in the grass

In which I imagine an older wood of hazel and bees, meet a pony guarding the way west to Hasley, and walk among raindrops sparkling in the grass
In which I pause under trees in the rain at the heart of Hasley Inclosure in the northern New Forest