Written in the labyrinth book of words by a visitor to Summer Trifle Festival at Pickhams in 2019:
I feel a little safer when I pass by the Giant, carved or made of concrete blocks or bricks, or whatever. I think of the time before we came back, and the age of Giants, their spirit still ives in these curvaceous hills of ancient seas turned to stone the many little creatures. But they live on in me with every drop of water, everything I eat. I am not just one creature anyway, just a little host to my friends from long ago. I will return to my home one day my friend, but it has been nice knowing you all, while I’m visiting from eternity.