199_0624_154400ELH
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The talking tree in Glen Barrisdale, where we stop and sit on the grass. In the shadow of this tree we're wont to rest for a while. I's near the little 'island' in River Barrisdale, where in 1991 we put up our wee tent after our first great round trip. With these formidable holes in its trunk it already spies us coming from far off, and once nearby it whispers all kinds of stuff.
