20th Century

Scout Moor

In weather fit for neither man nor beast, we climb through a northern landscape, sculpted from rock by water, and the detritus from receding ice, to emerge into sunlight. And there we come across a [more…]



Beowulf is min namen It was a recent post about zombies tearing off arms (of which more later) which reminded me of the three year bane of my life  when I read English Literature – [more…]