The East Anglian landscape is so flat
That the curvature of Earth is apparent
And so here is not so flat at all
A world of its own
Even the sea moves on a different level
From beyond the dykes and shingle banks
Winds from North and East hold sway
Mighty oaks are bent to their will
Brow beaten in perpetual homage to Njord
This vast, sparse expanse
Denuded of shape
A dinner plate piled high
n.b. We are not alone; it just feels like that sometimes.
n.n.b. Njord was the Norse god of wind and sea, (and wealth).