… I expect that is what is so endearing about Thomas ‘the Covenanter’ although his leprosy does become a metaphor for our culture and its ‘outcasting’ of the land.
A ludicrous idea if ever there was one, I should have thought, with consequences which are far from fun for anyone, as ‘we’ are beginning to realise to ‘our’ cost…
Paradise Lost… The Fall… Call it what you will…
Rowan and ritual surprises me, not one jot. I am always up for a little berry harvesting, especially if it promises to open the gates of vision.
No, it is definitely the Stones.
I was sort of hoping you would dig out the Statues-at-the-Stones picture.
Strangely, I am still somewhat enamoured of Statuary, primarily for its photographic possibilities… Stratford, and Coventry, and Oxford, and London all seem to be calling.
The Lordly ‘Em’ as ‘grisly protuberance’ certainly works for me, Sire of the Great Roger, eh? Possibly best not to go down that particular route.
If we are talking Shrewsbury, here, I cannot help but be reminded of our Swimming Shrew who could definitely be described as a neural impulse and one expressly sent from the collective mind of the Gods…
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