The croft is no longer lived in, but for sheep that wander in. Gone the summer and the winter of a home. That is how it is. The roof stands strong, but the wood of the windows going, going, gone over the years, due to the elements. People might be on a trek and come past, but that it’s off the beaten track and not seen so easily. Isolated and peaceful, empty. Strange to think of it. Roof of the outbuildings going, going, gone too. Nettles cozy the walls. Stones hold on together as the mortar leaves bit by bit by bit… Not much human creativity, resourcefulness or identity remaining steadfast, but the signs of elemental exuberance. Nature and weather taking the structures, changing the place that once was so congenial. Weather and nature making it their home now.
Over Soil 
That’s why I love places like the Moors.
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