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Life at Suffolk

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8 March 2021   - Natasha
Listen all, and listen well,To this story I will tell—The tale is mine, of love and foul play,For it is the story of my dying day. In Polstead, I was born and raised,Pretty and fair and ...
8 March 2021   - Natasha
You can see the crumbling wallas you make your wayinto the centre of the city.A reminder of our not so distant past.This is our Norwich, our fine city. The thing about our city’s walls is thatwe often ...
8 March 2021   - Natasha
A crow croaks. Magpies chatter to each other from the trees. A peewit peeps somewhere in the distance. The willows reach down and shatter the glass-like water. A kingfisher darts from one side of the bank to the other as ...
8 March 2021   - Natasha
Deep, thick furrowed earth like chocolate. New shoots of winter wheat glistening in low sunlight. This is Suffolk. Fields up and down, hazed sky as blue as Turkish waters.Our boots are heavy with clay. Rusty the Labrador hunts, sniffs, ...
8 March 2021   - Natasha
Growing up, the carefully tended limits of our suburban garden opened up onto heathland; a quick hop over the fence and my brother and I were birthed into a vast wilderness. We headed first to the large dip in the ...
5 March 2021   - Natasha
The natural worlds of East Anglia had been the backdrop to his entire childhood. An abundance of wild spaces, lovely gems tucked away for the inquisitive to explore, had shaped his love for nature and the glorious variety of wildlife ...
4 March 2021   - Natasha
Panic atomised us as we ran.Backs against the sunabandoning the blossoms,we went homeand stayed there for a while.Hidden from the eyes of Time,who peepsthrough the arrow-slitsand whose embrasuresswallow us whole A short walkbut worlds away -absence ...
4 March 2021   - Natasha
I’m beginning to become reminiscent. Sentimental about simple things. Thinking I’ve taken places for granted. Like the park. Not in the sense I had as a child when I’d go there to play and always whine about ...
4 March 2021   - Natasha
Runner-Up of the Student New Angle Prize competitionThe never-ending, darkening sky that stretched Wicken Fen into sunset brought with it the promise of another cold autumnal night. The rooks were beginning to quieten, the harvest mice scurried back to their ...

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