Stalking hedgerows – like a fox, I’ve been skirting fields, stalking stalks of corn, looking for trespassing signs, hunting signs, signs of life, secrets of history within the wires. The hedgerow is a lovely spot.  The intergenerational swap meet of cultivated land:  rusted horseshoes, broken tillers, jawbone of a horse, mock oranges, arrowheads, abandoned thermoses, [...]