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Butcherland, nr. Balls Cross

By lunchtime, I was ready for the off. With Rowan onboard, we headed off round the back of the pavilion and on through the village of Kirdford to Balls Cross. I turned right in the village. After a mile or so, the woods end and the land is open and flat. I pulled off of the road. Two Willow and a Birch sit at the entrance to a farm.

Not happy with where I was, I pulled forward. It still didn’t feel perfect, but I let Rowan out, anyway, and set up.

Shortly thereafter, Bruce, as I later learnt, the farmer appeared. He asked me to park on the opposite side of the road. He said that that is where travellers usually park. I was of course, happy to move. So, as soon as Rowan reappeared, I moved across the road. It turned out to be the best move.

Weeping Willow

Willow and Birch

The land here is known as Butcherland. I don’t know why, but I can surmise. The farm has the same name. Bruce’s wife, Alice, stopped by later. Eventually, I met the whole family. The family were really friendly and welcoming. They gave me loads of Guinea fowl eggs and kidneys for Rowan.

Pheasant (male)

That evening, the reason why I was impelled to move to what was a better position became evident.

The next day, I decided to top up my firewood. Whilst doing so, a van pulled up. The bloke stopped for a chat as he recognised the truck. It turned out that he had seen some of my posts on one or two of those ‘van life’ groups. In fact, in the time that I was parked there, a number of people stopped for a chat. Some also had a cup of tea.

There was a plethora of flora about.

Cut-leaved Cranes-bill

Small-flower Hairy Willowherb

Common Forget-me-not

Pussy Willow

Mouse-ear Chickweed

Purple Small-reed


Lesser Stitchwort



Green Dock

Bay Willow

Common Marsh Bedstraw

Spanish Foxglove

Noble Yarrow

Grass Vetchling

Bush Vetch

English Bluebell

Dog Rose

Owl-head Clover

Field Thistle

Narrow-leaf Hawk’s-beard

Just a little way down the road is Hoebridge.

Black Medick

Wild Daisy

Wood’s Rose

Red Campion

That evening, I was treated to an even better sunset.

In Wisborough Green, I had noticed that the witches hat on the flue had been damaged. I presume that a low branch must’ve caught it. As the weather had become incredibly hot, I made a point of getting up and getting on with repairing it before the Sun was too high in the sky. I hadn’t done the job in Wisborough Green as it meant having to put the ladder up on the road. Here, I had plenty of room. It was a five minute job. I then spent the rest of the day chilling and chatting to those who stopped by.

In the evening, I was engrossed in working on the blog. Suddenly, I became aware of the sunset. It was as though it had tapped me on the shoulder. I looked around to see a spectacular sunset happening. I quickly closed the windows (I think that’s the term) and opened the camera function on my device. Thinking that I was too late, I raised the machine and took the shot. A few minutes later, as I was marvelling at the photograph, Bruce and Alice pulled up. Bruce said, “That was a fantastic sunset. Did you see it?”

“Did I ever!”

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