Tag Archives: Photography

The Wyrm and the Wyrd: Ascent

‘The prophet takes over where the mystic stops. The mystic is ascent; the prophet descent.’ – William Everson The bibliomantic reading could not have been more appropriate. From the mines, we were heading for the heights to meet a Druid … Continue reading

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The Wyrm and the Wyrd: Descent

The trouble with awe-inspiring landscapes is that the camera can never do them justice. It is not merely a matter of scale, depth and perspective… the lens can capture all the details accurately. It can hold a frozen moment of … Continue reading

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A Bibliomantic Tale IV… Stuart France

* * “Somewhere in all that cloud stands a Druid at the head of a circle.” “Let’s go see if we can find him.” … * The Pillars: Penmaenmawr. * Tee minus Six hours and counting… “It’s odd, I had … Continue reading

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The Wyrm and the Wyrd: Stone and bone

I was distinctly sceptical…unsure what to expect when we parked at the entrance to the mines. So many ancient sites, once commercialised, seem to lose both their intimacy and essence, but I remembered watching something about the discovery many years … Continue reading

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A Bibliomantic Tale III… Stuart France

* The Great Orme: summit. * Tee minus One-Zero hours and counting… “Pages Four-Four and Four-Five.” “It’ll have to be Nine.” * No 9 (Light) ‘I saw that God never began to love us… We have always been in God’s … Continue reading

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A Bibliomantic Tale II… Stuart France

* Llandudno Bay: the Great Orme. * Tee minus Two-Four hours and counting… No 3 ‘The greatest religious and moral truth to which man must grow is that we cannot be saved individually. My salvation presupposes the salvation of others … Continue reading

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The Wyrm and the Wyrd: Time travel

Llandudno Bay is bounded by twin headlands of pale limestone. We stood on the larger of the two, Great Orme, looking out across a misty, morning sea, already certain that we needed far more time to explore than we would … Continue reading

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A walk on the wild side…

We could see the back of our destination from the graveyard. To be fair, we’d had no intention of visiting a graveyard…not this time at least. We had sort of hoped the local church was attached to it, but no … Continue reading

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Telling Tales by Helen Jones

Reblogged from Journey to Ambeth: It came to me a while ago that perhaps we, as humans, are built to be storytellers. That it’s in our DNA, some vital part of us that cannot be denied. From the dawn of … Continue reading

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The church with the feet

I was running out of time, but it was only a small church and it did not look overly promising. The stonework looked too regular…modern… except for the tower which looked as if it didn’t quite match, and the enclosure … Continue reading

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