Reblogged from Mary Smith’s Place:
Bamiyan, Autumn 1989
The view from my window
A murmur of male voices penetrated my subconscious in the morning. A row of men wearing expressions of ill-concealed curiosity gazed in the direction of my sleeping bag. A ferocious glare from Khudadad had them gathering up their belongings and murmuring goodbyes as they hurriedly left the room. The cook, in a grease spattered apron, was busy at his stove, for some reason situated on the veranda overlooking the street. Breakfast smelt good.
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About Sue Vincent
Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye
, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France,
exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent
. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs.
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Thanks, Sue. He was rather splendid wasn’t he? I was lucky to visit a few times before they were destroyed, including once with my son who called them the ‘good giants’, as opposed to the bad ones in his story books.
Amazing survivals… and sad to think that centuries of exhorting followers to a peaceful faith was lost to violence.
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