Bredon's Norton by day and night

Wending the darkened crunchy thread 'tween holiday cottages, so soft of bed, eliptical moon and far scattered star toss careless shade on path to spa. Wet fog drapes the sliding door violined wind is night's overture restless leaves, copper disarray hedgehogs shuffle their rattling way. Timid fox peeks through lambent eyes hoot owl watches, silent and wise wary, we tread the moonlit trail our faces hooded from burgeoning gale. Hapless conkers clutched in dimpled hand, such sweet delights are treasures unplanned. Rabbits, pheasant and white woolly sheep - snap with our cameras, mementos to keep. Norton Park's praises are sung by a few but its most cherished secrets are hidden from view: carved wooden stools and a lampstand from olde, tudor oak beams make their statement so bold. A dish of lush fruit and some welcoming wine, wonderfully tranquil, this retreat so divine "come back, come back!"I hear whispers in trees "I shall, oh I shall!"I reply to the breeze....