Up to the old Roman Road on the Moors

T’was on a stormy Autumn day that we set off up the hills to the old Roman Road. They had constructed it from rock as straight as an arrow across the hills. Designed to allow access of chariots and soldiers. It spoke of strength and permanence and was built with muscle and knowledge. Now it was decayed into rubble.

Nothing lasts but the beauty.

The day had its beauty too, with its ominous stormy clouds, the rocky tors, sheep, rocks and heather.

The sun even broke through for minutes at a time.

So this is it. All that is left are the rocky remains of the base of rocks. One could only stand and look down its length into the distance and wonder at the sights it would have held in its pomp. A road down which legions marched to quell the natives, chariots thundered and the might of the Roman Empire was brought to bear. Now just a long pile of rubble. But the beauty persists.

Then back down the hills, past the brook and across the stream on the ancient stones. for a beer in the pub.

There is something magical about the moors.

 

4 thoughts on “Up to the old Roman Road on the Moors

  1. Hey Dude, Namaste πŸ™‚

    There’s something very magical about the moors: you seem to have been entirely captivated by the experience: as if perhaps you sensed the history come alive?

    Moorland is possibly the closest most people get to any kind of wilderness: especially high-moorland where it is so quiet and alone. Perhaps it is as much the sense of isolation in being there as it is the elevated height distancing the world far below. I recall visiting Dartmoor on many occasions across the years and it’s allure, charm, its enigma never ceases to fascinate or hold my attention in much the same way as it always has done. Sitting on the summit of Hound Tor knowing one is hunted by the Baskerville dog still raises goose-bumps πŸ™‚

    Enjoy your weekend. Take care.

    Namaste πŸ™‚

    DN

    P.S: I always enjoy the photos….can we see them larger? πŸ™‚

    1. I enjoy the moors. There is something ethereal about them. They seem full of that elusive wuthering.
      I think if you click on the photos they go big.

      1. Hey Opher, Namaste πŸ™‚

        ‘Full of that elusive ‘wuthering’ πŸ™‚ Awesome….I didn’t know ‘wuthering’ was an actual word…I thought maybe it was a country-born colloquialism from ‘up north’, a word one might use to describe dismal weather (normally at higher reaches) as opposed weather conditions characterised by ‘strong winds.’

        One wonders if the words ‘wuthering’ and ‘heights’ are resigned to their common union in the phrase ‘wuthering heights’ in as much the same way as ‘grassy’ and ‘knoll’ are resigned to their common union in the phrase ‘grassy knoll’? (I suppose one could always stumble over a grassy knoll at wuthering height on moorland, or even find a wuthering knoll moored on land? πŸ™‚ )

        Anyway, I should go and get on before Merlin drowns. Enjoy your day πŸ™‚

        Namaste πŸ™‚

        DN

  2. I love the word wuthering! Some words are just so expressive.
    I hope your Sunday is full of majestic wanderings.
    Whatever you do don’t allow Merlin to drown!!
    Take care!!

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