bloganddice:

-Every Farmer has that one tree or group of trees on their land. Right in the middle of prime a prime grazing or crop field that they don’t dare chop down or even approach.
If you watch carefully you’ll catch them crossing themselves everytime they lay eyes on it.
-Murky, silty waters where children catch minnows 
conceal three foot pike with mouths full of vicious needles.
-Deep dark forests where Oak and Ash still remember the howl of wolves and the roar of bears. They fed giant sloths and watched the last Irish Elk die. They watched humans arrive and steal their once mighty empire, but they know that they can afford to bide their time.
-The Atlantic ocean hammers on rocks that look like the teeth and bones of a vast giants’ graveyard as the westerly wind howls and sprays like a rabid dog.
-Rooks pass messages in their raucous language. There’s one watching every field, every estate, every town. Posted like sentries. 
They follow every large group of humans, remembering the ancient wars and hoping those times of plenty will return.
-Tumbledown stone cottages, unmortared, thatch long since rotted away. The inhabitants starved to death decades ago, but the hungry land makes a feast of their home.
-Abandoned Ghost Estates stand as memorials  to the Celtic Tiger long since shot, stuffed and mounted. Ironically they’re the only places where the houses aren’t guaranteed to be haunted.