Last week, I walked over Stanton Moor (which is a place I only ever visit in Autumn, as if time and place were inextricably bound). I came to the Nine Ladies- a small, but perfectly formed, stone circle.
By the stone circle, there’s a tree. An old oak tree. And on the tree, people hang Stuff.
Made Stuff, found Stuff, natural Stuff.
I guess they’re hoping. Hoping to find, to live, to love, to heal. I just find it beautiful and fascinating.