“It is hot today. Yes. No wind. I have been thinking. That we should talk. No, look, don’t say anything just let me speak. I didn’t think I could see you today, but i’m here. And that should count for something. I think. I hope. But I should start with i’m sorry. Yesterday was hot. Too hot. And i was drinking as usual. And it makes me do stupid things. Sorry. Last night was not stupid. That’s not what I meant. Look shall i start again?

I have always respected you, and what you do. I thought my job was lonely, with nothing but sheep to keep me company. But I can't even begin to imagine what it’s like for you. So much responsibility, so much entrusted to your keeping and yet you are so restricted as to what you can do. But you have been my rock, my guide, my confidant, always there for me. Someone to speak to. No judgement, no comments about why im wearing a stupid tunic in this day and age. Just quiet support and strength. I guess I couldn't have asked for more. And maybe I took advantage of that. I don’t know if you wanted last night. If it even meant anything to you. If you really even felt anything. But the truth is it happened. And we can’t go back from that. And I'm not sorry, not really. I mean I've wanted this for so long.

I’ve brought you another scarf. I figured you’d need one after what I did to your old one. Call it an olive branch if you will. Look at that, it looks good on you, brings out the gold in your...hair.

Last night. When I felt you in me last night, it was like I was absorbing all your wooden strength. I felt complete. Stronger. Safer. Your protection ran through me, just as i had imagined it would. Each splinter has stayed with me.

Sure others might mock. But is it so strange this love? Do people not love their mobile phones more than their husbands or wives. Has mankind not always idolised and worshippped money above all else. These imaterial, material things. But what we have is of the earth. Literally. Our love goes deep. It tastes of the soil, the trees, the plants, of whether worn wood and straw. It smells of windswept days and endless rainy nights. What is so wrong about that, when compared to all else mankind has loved.

I know that you are not mine, I know that. I know Farmer James has a reason to warn me off his land. But I cannot stay away from you. From us. As the birds flee from you, yet always come back to your crops. That is as i am. I wonder if you could run, would you run to me? Would you hold me in your arms as you did last night. Or is that moment gone now for ever. A ploughed field, never to be resown. I don’t want an answer. Just stand straight. Continue your watch and look for my return with maybe, hopefully joy in your soul.