Home > After Dark

 

'Roman' building

   

 

Triangulação cadastral

  

 

  

Megalith

 

 


Trench

 

 

Night shift

 

 

 

 

 

The Ruin

When the last colours of the day
Have from their burning ebbed away,
About that ruin, cold and lone,
The cricket shrills from stone to stone;
And scattering o'er its darkened green,
Bands of the fairies may be seen,
Chattering like grasshoppers, their feet
Dancing a thistledown dance around it:
While the great gold of the mild moon
Tinges their tiny acorn shoon.

Walter de la Mare
("Peacock Pie" 1913)

 

 

 


Webdesign © M E Chester-Kadwell 2001