On her stone pulpit in the middle of vast open moorland stood a proud woman, her long hair blowing in the wind. It was as if she were addressing a crowd but she held her hands before her, covering her womanhood. I loved the contradiction. She became aware that I was watching and so as not to to cause her any awkwardness I started to walk away. She glanced at me for a few moments, studying me, before turning her head back towards the dark clouds now sweeping in from the sea.
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