Rusty Rural Ring

I think it may have been yesterday, or Tuesday, I forget, when I was in the middle of proper rural Herefordshire and I silently slid around the corner, a corner, in my silent electric car named “Danger Horse” when I was startled to see, in front of me, this perforated metal ring, in a field.

I pulled off the road silently, save for the scrunch of massive tyres on the part of the road which isn’t quite road and less so verge, the gulley where winter storms discharge themselves.

Turns out this place is a free open air art gallery called Canwood Gallery, run by a farmer who wanted to diversify and came up with this beautiful idea to adorn the already stunning countryside. check it out, it’s in Checkley, funnily enough.

I didn’t stop to go in or investigate as I was between appointments (I barely speak to the customers, as I prefer my own company and I don’t sell anything, I offer a free service which people know not a great deal about) next time I will make a special trip out, and marvel at the free sculptures. But how very British and I sadly count myself in this grouping, that where I pulled up, literally across the road, the hedge affording me a view of this ring had been slightly flattened and the approach trampled. Get the photo and fuck off, like the Mona Lisa, which used not to be the most expensive and famous painting in the world until it was stolen in the (whatever) century, and now look at the queues.

My boot can not contain the rusty field ring.

Ta

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