Were turned to stone for playing on a Sunday … well of course. Not a fun place obviously.
Ah ha! A “High Point” beckons. It’s a compulsion.
And a curse.
The Big Cheese …
And, keeping the christian theme going: The Baby Cheeses. Bad joke.
We keep coming across these homages to rocks and mountains. Is this a thing the youth do these days in gap years or something? I’m so out of touch. But it is actually quite touching. And if you think it looks ill or claims too much ownership … topple ’em.
And this week’s High Point is: The Cheese Ring on Stowe’s Hill above Minions. It made me feel sick just taking the picture.
Time to get back to the car before dark and the next storm blows in. Honestly it felt like Cornish Giants were getting all suburban on our ass and pebble dashing everything in sight including us.
And in a separate development, on another occasion, and yet nearby, two pipers were also turned to stone, I assume for piping on the Lord’s day. In point of fact, if you stood still for too long here, you’d be covered in lichen and frozen stiff in no time … oh, and then pebble-dashed too for good measure, Sunday or not.
And as the sun went down, even the fungal world is screaming: Go away!