image by PhotoVision on pixabay
You cannot imagine how it is to live for so long not knowing why you remain young while others age, not knowing why you live while others die.
Then the memory returns. It doesn’t come to you slowly, piece by tantalising piece to be put together and hesitantly grasped; it comes all of a parcel and hits you in the face, the throat, the chest, the gut, the bowels. And you cry out: “Oh God, no!”
Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Longevity.
Bruges, Belgium: Image by Slavisa Grcic on Google Maps
Upon first contact in BCE 58 the local tribes accepted Rome’s outstretched hand. By BCE 56 they had realised its reality. The Coriosolitae, Veneti, Osismi and Namnetes, the Esuvii, Lexovii, Ambiliati and Diablintes, joined with the more distant Morini and Menappi in a massive uprising. These tribes held territories along the coast, they had powerful fleets… and trade links with Britain that were about to be broken.
Rome’s response was effective. While Caesar attacked the rebel coalition on land, a Roman fleet attacked by sea. The alliance fleet of 220 ships relied entirely upon their sails. Alas, during the decisive battle, the wind suddenly failed them.
Caesar claims to have executed the alliance’s councillors and to have sold the remaining rebels into slavery. But apart from the unlikely situation of a total clearance of the coastal strip from the Rhine around to the Loire, the archaeological evidence says otherwise.
149 words written for What Pegman Saw: Bruges, Belgium
A narrative taken from The Bretons (Patrick Galliou and Michael Jones, 1991, available on Amazon) supplemented by relevant articles on Wikipedia, and notes from Barry Cunliffe’s Facing The Ocean (2001) – plus notes acquired over the past two and a half decades of personal research.
The Morini and Menappi occupied what now is Belgium.
Fungus, and spider’s web, and raindrops… nailed in triplicate!
Marriotts Way: 1st November 2019
I tend to hide in the warm and the dry at this time of day, especially at this time of year. But being late in returning from a walk, and with camera still primed into my hand…
Hall Quay by Havenbridge: 1st Nov 2019
I here give you Great Yarmouth at 5:00 pm… in a lull in the traffic (I think they saw the camera and turned shy).
Nighttime, one of the titles in #2019picoftheweek challenge. For details see MariaAntonia
Crimson’s Creative Challenge #54
Captured and imprisoned.
Two crusts a day: one of bread, the other off cheese.
The cheese is best; its mould might heal me.
The bread is rye, its mould might freak me.
Taken at the start of the war…
In the wrong place at the wrong time and wearing the wrong colours.
Green, one shouldn’t wear green.
The fractious fairies’ colour.
Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #54
CCC#54
Welcome to my weekly challenge—open to all—just for FUN, FUN, FUN
Here’s how it works:
Every Wednesday I post a photo (this week it’s that one above.)
You respond with something CREATIVE
Here are some suggestions:
You have plenty of scope and only two criteria:
If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it
If you include Crimson’s Creative Challenge as a heading, WP Search will find it (theory)
by ‘Searching’ in the WP Reader (fingers crossed)
Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN.
The photo shows the undercroft at St Olave’s Priory just outside Great Yarmouth. Built in C14th, it is one of the earliest brick-constructed vaults. It was later used as a cottage.
Draco… oops, wrong one (image by maurygraf on pixabay)
In Athens the citizens gathered at the ecclesia to discuss and agree a solution to the increasing problem of their laws. Passed by word of mouth and laced with blood feuds, impossible to track and to apply with justice.
Word had reached them that in the East they had codified laws, written and enforced by court of law. Athens should have the same.
They chuckled as they elected Little Drako. How might he manage to list the laws, each with a penalty?
He managed well: he applied the same penalty to almost every crime, no matter how minor. Death, else exile. Draconian solutions.
103 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt
photo by Randolfo Santos on Google Maps
Garuda and Vishnu; painting by Raja Ravi Varma, public domain
Born of an egg, five hundred years in the hatching.
Born into enmity with the Nagas, his one thousand siblings; bound into peace by Buddha.
Taken by Vishnu to be his vehicle, to transport him horizon to horizon, fast as a flash, to fight injustice, to destroy evil.
Garuda, who with the flap of his wing stops the spinning of heaven and earth.
Garuda, the idea and the Self, from Vishnu inseparable.
Garuda, alias Galon, every true king’s insignia.
77 words written for What Pegman Saw: Myanmar
I interrupt the Fungi Fest, for this week only, to bring you this… cos it was amazing.
Yes folks, it’s upside down…
I went in search of pine trees, for their specific fungi. But the woodland is mixed with deciduous.
Calm yet… we haven’t fully entered the woods…
And on this one DRY and SUNNY day…
Feast your eyes on that colour
the Mother Beech came out to play!
And look at that incredibly tangled ancient trunk…
I just had to share these photos… But I’m not done yet
Late for a dragonfly, this Darter’s colour is in keeping with the day
And, because I don’t want you getting fungi-withdrawals…
Just like apricots tucked in amongst the bracken.
Possibly Powdercaps, but they could as easily be the golden version of Fly Agaric, depends on what colour those stipes. Then again, they might be waxcaps… except the cap don’t look waxy. Ho-hum.
November began with heavy mist. But I refused to stay home.
Mist, like layered veils: 1st Nov 2019
Beyond the farmer’s field, the trees and hills strain to be seen through the mist.
Mist: one of the titles in #2019picoftheweek challenge. For details see MariaAntonia
crispina kemp 