It is not difficult to imagine the conversation as these three elderly citizens amble slowly into the oblivion that is time.
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The first of these photographs was taken about three weeks ago: the second, earlier this week in the same meadow. Most of the flowers have gone; most of the seeds dispersed leaving, to my eyes, a delightful abstract pattern. In just a few weeks this same field will be teeming with buttercups and a few weeks later will be full of flowering grasses, ready to be mown for hay. It is a natural meadow – no artificial fertilizers here – and has belonged to the same family for more than two centuries But now there is a cloud on the horizon and its future is unsure.