To the Far Tor

I lived on the edge of Dartmoor, Devonshire (uk) and finished a poem after a walk up onto the hills to get some wind-swept peace. At the top there are 'tors' of ancient stones that are features of the old hills, once covered in forest. Anyway, I wrote it partly on this walk to escape modernity for an hour, getting away from the continual organisation required in the role of a manager in a large company. I was trying to reconcile something: modernity, life, death, nature and art as a whole I guess, in the presence of the old stones and hills. I'm not sure how successful was the attempt… but the words became piles of stones in themselves, 2015. The full poem exists somewhere online, the title to a small collection. This image is a token of that day, and features a central verse.