Bodiam Castle
A beautiful day out at Bodiam Castle today with Lorraine. Decided to go there as I am at a point in my skeleton's story where a bit of castle reference would come in handy. L drove (and I navigated skilfully) across winding country lanes. The castle was almost artificially perfect, like a fairytale from a distance.
Spent some time wandering about in the castle, I began to become a bit obsessed with how the bright winter sunlight fell through its windows. L and I wandered about, squeezing up spiral staircases and mooching on the ramparts looking down at the greenish moat and the surrounding fields, with L falling into conversation with children as they squeezing through holes in the walls or waved plastic swords about.
I was reminded of a poem I wrote after visiting Kenilworth Castle, near Warwick University where I was studying. The poem recorded the fantastically profound observation that castles, built to last, fall down - and was published in Other Poetry about 25 years ago.
Then to the tea shop for a restoring cup of tea and hot chocolate and for me one of those flapjack badboys. Drove back through country lanes into the setting sun to spend an evening together scarfing pizza and watching TV.
Below a bit of a photofest. Lorraine who is unable to keep a straight face in a photo in the third one, and various other shots, including a few which highlight the golden light washing through some of the windows. As ever click 'em to enlarge.
A beautiful day out at Bodiam Castle today with Lorraine. Decided to go there as I am at a point in my skeleton's story where a bit of castle reference would come in handy. L drove (and I navigated skilfully) across winding country lanes. The castle was almost artificially perfect, like a fairytale from a distance.
Spent some time wandering about in the castle, I began to become a bit obsessed with how the bright winter sunlight fell through its windows. L and I wandered about, squeezing up spiral staircases and mooching on the ramparts looking down at the greenish moat and the surrounding fields, with L falling into conversation with children as they squeezing through holes in the walls or waved plastic swords about.
I was reminded of a poem I wrote after visiting Kenilworth Castle, near Warwick University where I was studying. The poem recorded the fantastically profound observation that castles, built to last, fall down - and was published in Other Poetry about 25 years ago.
Kenilworth Castle
Stone does not sustain unchanged through time
As the raving of the rooks sustains,
No carved name endures in the red rock
As the green of the rock moss endures.
The jigsaw ruins mate images
To our brief memory, the ruins
Sustain us through these discarded husks
To restoration; the sowing of new grain.
Then to the tea shop for a restoring cup of tea and hot chocolate and for me one of those flapjack badboys. Drove back through country lanes into the setting sun to spend an evening together scarfing pizza and watching TV.
Below a bit of a photofest. Lorraine who is unable to keep a straight face in a photo in the third one, and various other shots, including a few which highlight the golden light washing through some of the windows. As ever click 'em to enlarge.
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