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And PACC6MM for @themarten (this is actually your fic, so, uh, I hope that's ok):

It was actually louder in the trees than on the road. He’d been hearing birds all along, but now the breeze rustled the leaves and the pine needles crushed under his feet and there were all kinds of crackles and creaks. He was following a little creek that had a wide dry bed when he came to a clearing on a hill. The first thing he saw was a weird skinny mossy tower. It was rising from the ruins of a hut. Maybe an old gamekeeper’s cottage, nothing but mortared stone walls and hearth remaining, the rest had long ago gone back to earth. The tower was a stone chimney standing straight up like a middle finger raised to the gloomy sky. Well, thought Paul, that’s something we can agree on - fuck you, world.