across the downs, beside the truffle woods,on our own,the start of the truffle journey,"language" a way of working together. Under the big beech , where cows now graze and rub the trees. He rips up the turf, dreaming in the earth. I have no spade, two earth worms shocked . The ground is sealed in cool firmness and below the truffle might grow. Home we go , thinking to return come november, when the cows are like bison.