There is something deep without my soul that yearns for the mountains. They have such a divine quality to them, like they are reaching up towards the gods. I cannot resist their mystic lure.

Spent Summer Solstice off-grid in Somerset. Orb pondering.

The spirts of Oliver Cromwell, and the heroism Thomas Carlyle spoke of is the solution.

Our ancestors fought for our freedom, fight and guard it.

“Sweet land, delightful, joyous and abounding in all ease and wealth, wherein my soul and life remain… blessed be they who stay here after me, whether they be friends or foes … for they who live in so sweet a land are more fortune than any others” Lancelot on England 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

Filming at Flint Castle, on the topic of Edward I, for an exciting project being launched soon. ;)

I’ve realised my childhood dream of being a farmer was my ancestral blood memories flooding back to me.

I need to move to North Wales immediately.

I’ve been told the reason this building doesn’t have a clock facing Wales, is because the people of Chester didn’t want to give the Welsh the time of day.

POV: You didn’t get my ‘Falling Down’ reference.