The Bones Of Pain
So much apparent cruelty is mercifully concealed from us by the sheltering leaves. We seldom see the bones of pain that hang beyond the green summer day. The woods and fields and gardens are places of endless stabbing, impaling, squashing and mangling. We see only what floats to the surface; the colour, the song, the nesting, and the feeding. I do not think we could bear a clear vision of the animal world.
J.A. Baker, The Hill Of Summer
Photograph taken near Mangotsfield, Bristol, May 2018.