Out walking on the Cornish coast some weeks ago, Richard and I had a great min-adventure, finding and exploring and discovering little treasures, including this wonderful grove of Holm oaks, tucked down the side of a cliff, the lowest trees in perilous danger of going for a swim one day very soon! The trees by their everygreen nature had a bare floor beneath and none of the bramble tangle everywhere else. One tree was arched and had regrown, one sported intriguing fungi, and a rope led to the top of the cliff, upwards, outwards, and showing that others had been many moons before our feet trod this way.
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