Making a mountain of Solsbury Hill
Most encounters I have had with hills meant seeing them before going up them, except for one; Solsbury Hill, which I heard, long before I ever went there.
Most encounters I have had with hills meant seeing them before going up them, except for one; Solsbury Hill, which I heard, long before I ever went there.
I’ve always quite liked the style of old handbills: the erratic punctuation, jumbled type sizes and overuse of exclamation marks especially. If I produced a handbill for this blog, it would look something like this…
As the beam touches you, it has a near instant effect, quickly drawing your thoughts out through the window and filling you with a desire to be out there, on the other side of the glass, walking in the sunlight, exploring the city streets, or escaping over the horizon, (I like to think of this particular effect as a positive variety of Corpse-light or Willow-the-wisp, but without the danger of being drawn into some terrible dark and boggy end).