"We had all our equipment packed. Pockets stuffed with home soil as we proceeded amongst trees. We found a soothing location. We hung all our valuables on a branch and spread the content of our pockets on the emerging rocks as poles. We stuck our feet through an opening in a barbwire fence on to a coned hay field. Shoes got wet, and split in the pressure of ballooning feet. Shades of brown glowed in the dark. We recognized their full spectrum. Gasping and wheezing while sinking our feet in the ground. Bubbles on our soles. Our supplies kept us at place. Piles of stone arched over the fence in a few meters distance. The space beneath this arch was blocked by polypore infested trunks. We tried to see the smallest gestures, as in the dark everything seemed to bustle. Timber-stemmed knight arrayed his tarp towards the west. We filled in for the moonlight. Reflection showed us the place of water. The route to the field became more and more unclear. Our arms glowing heat curled grass and the surfaces around us. We squinted our eyes and begun leaning against the fence. According to dimensions we could just have wriggled our selves through the fence, but instead were bent to its separate sides. A man sized tin soldier tried to hide his hysteria. He laid high in a tree. A climb to a birdwatchers tower in the present atmosphere would require riding a bull by its testicles. We sat down on our separate sides reaching forehead against forehead, meeting a puffed tuft of grass with fire. All the largest moths flew backwards to the fire." (label info) C50 tape.