Before the marina had been built, time in this area had stood still for centuries. Once four buildings had graced a track which terminated at the marina’s site. The first a church without windows and doors, next a abandoned blacksmiths. A farm without a farmer. Lastly a derelict Manor House.
When a gypsy caravan rolled up to the marina, those who relaxed on board boats where unprepared for what happened. The caravan delivered two strange individuals. A tall man, bright red from head to toe, and a woman with red hair that touched the ground.
Then the bulldozed buildings reappeared…
Footnote: This is a rework of a former post. In honour of a old friend Bill Thornber who helped me with the original. My friend has past away because of this dreadful virus, he will be much missed. Rest in peace Bill.