October 15th – In a factory yard in the darkest Black Country, a temporarily misplaced young hunter peers hopefully from a bund wall at standing water. There might be the odd frog, I guess, but no fish in there, sir. 

He watched for a while, then, as if called, suddenly flew  away. He seemed to know exactly where he was going.

This is why I adore the Black Country.

Author: BrownhillsBob

I told the truth - but told it bent. Wandering around bemused and ranty since 2007. View all posts by BrownhillsBob