Like a Spine of Memory Through Time

St. George Ogun Day, so I walked the mysteries in the landscape. I started in the woods and then went along the Downs. I visited places where Neolithic flints can be found and Cunning Murrel hid bottles of iron. I passed the long rotted away point where a Roman jetty stood.

I followed the Thames like a spine of memory through time, climbing over the obstacles of industry and property in my way. I tracked its course for as long as I could before tiredness started to override mad pursuit. I walked in the cool grey and drizzle, divining by iPod and naked for signs.

Eventually I turned around and started to make my way back, trying to assimilate the unfamiliar corners my mind had flowed into, trying to make sense of the new perspectives I had glimpsed. I think the only banal revelation from the drift I can express at the moment is that I do not walk enough.