You stand on the high lip of the property, looking over its young orchard, and across a valley of sunflower and barley fields to the woods on the opposite ridge. On the horizon you see the outline of church spires, and the gentle undulations of the Black Mountains. People lie beside the pool on this ridge for hours, watching the sky, glad not to be on the plane. Time seems slower here. Bliss can be planned for, but sometimes it is stumbled upon. Phillip Hill, from Wales, and his Scottish hus...
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