[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Between the two rivers – one that bisects, the other that defines half the farm – is a shallow path, worn half-bald by the traffic of nocturnal feet. To either side, beacons of ownership – the hummocks of grass dotted with spraint from the owners of those busy feet – otters. This one fresh, riddled with fishbones and smelling peculiarly pleasant – of jasmine tea
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