"In a hammock of moss the size of a cupped palm, dangling between green-barked branches, a moth-winged bull slept. It had folded back its papery wings and drifted to sleep kneeling on the dank threads of it's makeshift bed. Around it the bog stretched to the horizon in every direction., a mottling of glistening peat, ochre grass and trees whose bent trunks formed low archways." (Ali Shaw, p.34)
A beautiful, magical modern fairy tale which requires you to put aside logic when you read it. The cows loved hearing about their winged contemporaries, although they found some parts of the story too sad to keep reading. Wonderful work from an author who was born in the South-West of England.
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