(500 words) Eyes, beady all-seeing eyes, watched from above as I stood at my father’s graveside. I turned my binoculars to watch the bird circling high above an adjacent field. It was russet with white patches at the end of each elegant, outstretched wing, a span of at least five feet, I adjudged. Although too distant, I knew there to be bold pupils within pale eyes and flared nostrils in a hooked yellow bill. A majestic red kite. Now he (I imagined a male) was gliding effortlessly in a circle - looking for prey, whilst doubtless keeping a wary eye on me.
(500 words) -A shiny green ‘Welcome to Tetford’ sign, embossed with a church amongst hills, stands on each of the three approach roads. Information states that Tetford is ‘twinned’ with Juillé, though it’s doubtful anyone cares. One approach to Tetford, situated in the Lincolnshire Wolds and home to 400 or so, brings you through woods down Tetford Hill, until you emerge to a panorama of neat green, yellow and golden fields beneath a huge sky.