I’ve named this place the Fuzz Bunker. It’s a clump of gorse in the middle of the heath tall enough to walk inside. The ponies and cattle use it to shelter from bad weather, so all surfaces are rubbed smooth and the ground stamped flat. Calling gorse ‘fuzz’ I have heard elsewhere, but I can’t remember where. Today it came from the mouth of a Commoner. Welcome to my Fuzz Bunker!