Tiny roads, miles from nowhere and barely wide enough for a car, wound between hills and hedgerows before finally opening out into the valley. And there, we became a traffic
Tag: Stuart France and Sue Vincent
The Wyrm and the Wyrd: Stations of the sunThe Wyrm and the Wyrd: Stations of the sun
We were up and away early again, this time well supplied with munchables on which to break our fast. We may have missed the dawn, but we still caught the
The Wyrm and the Wyrd: Solstice stonesThe Wyrm and the Wyrd: Solstice stones
We had no idea where we would be taken for the final visit of the day. We suspected an ancient site as the area is just strewn with them. A
The Wyrm and the Wyrd: BeachedThe Wyrm and the Wyrd: Beached
In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea! If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore, Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more.
The Wyrm and the Wyrd: HarlechThe Wyrm and the Wyrd: Harlech
Leaving Portmeirion and its mysteries behind, we drove across the estuary to Harlech in search of lunch. Stuart and I had parked beneath the Norman castle that morning when we
The Wyrm and the Wyrd: Contrasts and small thingsThe Wyrm and the Wyrd: Contrasts and small things
The heat was both welcome and unexpected. Britain in summer offers no guarantees, but on this, the Silent Eye’s third foray into Wales, we had once again been blessed with
The Wyrm and the Wyrd: Rabbit-hole or Looking-glass?The Wyrm and the Wyrd: Rabbit-hole or Looking-glass?
We were way too early at Portmeirion. Our companions were not due until ten, the gates did not open until half past nine, but we wandered over anyway about twenty
The Wyrm and the Wyrd: In search of breakfastThe Wyrm and the Wyrd: In search of breakfast
We were surprised to find that breakfast would not be forthcoming. While we could, undoubtedly, have booked it separately, it was almost a matter of principle not to do so.
The Wyrm and the Wyrd: Under hill… and under constructionThe Wyrm and the Wyrd: Under hill… and under construction
The road through Snowdonia was spectacular…at least, once we had left behind the rush hour traffic on the main coast road that delayed us. Realising we might miss the pre-evening
The Wyrm and the Wyrd: ‘I am not a number’The Wyrm and the Wyrd: ‘I am not a number’
There were people… two of them… heading towards the Druids Circle… so we wandered over to have a look at the intriguing cluster of stones we could see just over
The Wyrm and the Wyrd: Greeting the Druid…The Wyrm and the Wyrd: Greeting the Druid…
You could not wish for a more spectacular setting for a stone circle. Perched high above the sea, with views to distant mountains in every other direction, it is a
The Wyrm and the Wyrd: AscentThe 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,
The Wyrm and the Wyrd: DescentThe 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