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THE HANGING GARDENS High on the Gloucester road just before it wriggles its hips level with eagles down the gorge into the coastal hills there were five beige pea-chickens sloping under the farm fence in a nervous unison of head-tufts up to the garden where they lived then along the gutter and bank adult birds, grazing in full serpent. Their colours are too saturate and cool to see at first with dryland eyes trained to drab ...