An English In Kentucky


















June 21st 2010    Tim Candler

    Always best not to actually look at the sun, otherwise a morning is spent being chased by large green butterflies.  And there could be retina damage.  So I imagine amongst the ancients the truly pious could hardly see, and they would wander the land bumping into obstructions very much in the same way they do today.

     My own contribution to circle consisted of a resurrection from more distant days.  In my mind I recreated the Circle of Gower.  Twenty four flagons of beer, one for each hour of mid-summer day.   It rained of course, and we sat huddled watching a cold sea.   As well we probably should have been arrested for insufficiency of purpose, unless the effort of carrying twenty four flagons of beer down steep escarpment counts.

    The Potato rock contains a crystalline structure.  I am told that color varies from white to blues and yellows.  Some people like to break open Potato rocks with a hammer, so as to admire the content.   And with special equipment Potato rocks can be sliced to produce ornament sure to arouse "ooh" and "ah" from the prurient.  Like fireworks, suddenly gone.

     I have ten Potato rocks.   The circle they transcribed at what I guessed was the moment of solstice looked well in the vegetable garden.  And the rake I blundered into almost persuaded me to hunt down a hammer.

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