Stories so far

The drive up to the castle, between the two imposing gate posts (more like small houses) and then the stiff ascent up the road; then two dead trees, the first on my right, close to behind the wobbly, wavy line of the fence running alongside, the second in the far distance on the left, on the estate walk. Sometimes there are people walking that last leg of the permissive path as it returns to the road. From there the road forks, one part leading up to the castle, the other down the hill again toward the car park (for us lesser mortals), taking me past the black sheep that graze the slopes below the castle and affording a bottom-of-the-moat's eye view of the castle walls, curved and generous and, depending on the weather, either an invitingly warm buff colour, or paving-slab grey.