The farmer working in the fields before the sunrise, the inland navigators heading for the far skies. Up on the hills amid the silence of the high moors, down in the valleys, by the rivers and the dry stone walls. That is where you will find them out there, working by the hedgerows. In the rain and the snowfall you’ll find them out there, high against the skyline. In the mines and the headings you’ll find them, down there dreaming of the daylight. The line will hold; the mark of man upon the land; the inland navigators reaching for the far skies.