Peregrinations

Half-way down
Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade!

“Christchurch Gate. 1517. Bronze figure of Christ installed 1991 replacing the one used for target practice by Parliamentarians in 1642.”
She looked up at the huge figure above her. “Still not easy to miss,” she muttered to herself. She thought he looked a little disgruntled, a little wary. Keeping a sharp eye out for archers, no doubt. Read more about The Gatehouse

The ferry carrying soldiers to ships waiting in Thames Estuary would pass beneath London Bridge at any moment. The shops and houses that lined the bridge closed off any direct access to a view of the river, so Alice and her companions had crowded onto a small balcony at the rear of a public house where they had been escorted from the court to send off husbands and lovers. Read more about Prologue

My characters are off across the Yorkshire Moors to waylay the Wild Hunt. But when their quest is finished, I hope they get a chance to drop into this village in the Yorkshire Dales for a nice cream tea.

Read more about Village in the Dales

Sunrise this morning shone through these stones as it has done on the Winter Solstice these several thousand years. Two years ago, I drove by on the the eve of the Summer Solstice and got caught up in the traffic heading in. The beautiful people in the car next to me - wreathed in flowers and smiles - invited me to the dance, but I couldn't go then. Read more about Solstice

In Ghosts of Great Britain (possibly a working title), Barbara Stoner's brilliant second novel (a mere 2 or 3 chapters away from finis), her heroine, in a mad dash from the Shambles to York Minster, fetches up against a stony emperor. If she had taken the time to read the plaque, she would have found that Constantine, in a series of political moves too byzantine to relate here, was proclaimed Emperor near this spot in 306 C.E. Read more about York - Birthplace of Christianity!

In the courtyard of Boston's Old City Hall are these two somewhat unmonumental monuments, standing just across the way from a monumental Benjamin Franklin. The footprints, with the inscription "Standing in Opposition," are facing the donkey just a tile or two out of the picture. My supposition has always been that they are Republican footprints. Read more about Stony Opposition

Massasoit, standing on a hillside in Plymouth, Massachusetts, bestowing a disgruntled frown on the Rock and a replica of the Mayflower riding at anchor in the harbor. Read more about Massasoit

So many of the sculptures and bas-reliefs left to us by the ancients commemorate battles and victories and victorious rulers. Sometimes, though, we get a glimpse of real folk. People we recognize. People doing something we have done before - oh, perhaps we have not loaded a sea-going trireme with cedar logs from Lebanon or thereabouts. But we may have had a friend or two help us carry a couch to the moving van. That's why I love this bas-relief. See the guy on the end, making sure of the load? Read more about Loading Cedar