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Stop at the bench here at Sherburn Brow, near Manor Wold Farm, on the edge of the Wolds, looking north across the wide valley to the North York Moors.
Enjoy the followig poem along with the view:
Hazel Tun, Heslerton – the old sounds shift as they settle new mouths along spring line, marsh edge, main road. Parisi, Roman, Saxon, you – who is from here, who takes the path from spring to shrine, from car to here, voices flittering on the breeze? - John Wedgwood Clark
What3Words spinning.sounding.blown
