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
In which I am surrounded by skylark song, and learn some New Forest history. In particular, I am surprised by Second World War archaeology masquerading (according to the OS map) as tumuli.