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H29 - Hedge - Sundancers' Sweep

Bordered on one side by a seemingly endless field of immaculate corn rows, wild grasslands sweep out as far as the eye can see, fading into misty distance. The silhouettes of the distant Green Mountains can occasionally be glimpsed on the horizon, mortal world close by. Little flying birds swirl overhead in great, bright wheeling flocks, darting through the often prickly, head-high grass in flashes of metallic colour, always dancing, never ceasing, in seemingly deliberate patterns. The different colours interweave in very specific ways in certain circumstances, but the birds never once set foot to soil.

The simple dirt trod here is immensely easy to lose track of, a thin thing, seldom used, weaving between bushy clumps of grass over rolling hills. Anything could be lying in wait. Sometimes, they do.

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