#the gateway to tennyson

[illustratus]

King Arthur's sword Excalibur and the hand emerging from the lake

[mysterious-secret-garden]

The Death of King Arthur. Coloured illustration from the book ‘The Gateway to Tennyson’ published 1910 by Hilary Jane Morgan.

[shroom-vroom]

Alfred Lord Tennyson once said, "if I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever."  The longest friendship I have is a big tree, upon which is a treehouse built of comics we read together and lunches we shared. One of my other friendships is a vast meadow of perpetual spring, I bask in its sunshine and dance in the occasional rains. A boy I once liked had entire vineyards growing around my daydreams. I held onto those vines long after they were withered and dry, thinking if I thought about him non stop  my thoughts would become Beauty's teardrops and revive loveless dead vines. I was a teen back then. I'm better at gardening now.  The people of the world, come by and have different names. I call one of them mumma- she planted 20 years daisies in me so far. Some call themselves 'friends', even though they're not. Some call themselves things I don't remember now because I gave them names of my own. Some are the smoke and fire and fears that I dream nightmares about. Then there's you. An entire forest. The kind that children's books writers write about. The forest that's hidden behind a closet, a magic entrance, golden glittering gateways and candy trees. Clear ringing waterfalls and rabbits and deers running around.  The other end of you is a beach.  Twinkle-light tents I camp nights in with waves sliding onto my feet.    You've built me an island country.  Lord Tennyson had a garden.  Look what you made me.

~ You’re my happiness Khushi 

[itsloriel]

Godiva

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

I waited for the train at Coventry; I hung with grooms and porters on the bridge, To watch the three tall spires; and there I shaped The city's ancient legend into this:

Not only we, the latest seed of Time, New men, that in the flying of a wheel Cry down the past, not only we, that prate Of rights and wrongs, have loved the people well, And loathed to see them overtax'd; but she Did more, and underwent, and overcame, The woman of a thousand summers back, Godiva, wife to that grim Earl, who ruled In Coventry: for when he laid a tax Upon his town, and all the mothers brought Their children, clamoring, "If we pay, we starve!" She sought her lord, and found him, where he strode About the hall, among his dogs, alone, His beard a foot before him and his hair A yard behind. She told him of their tears, And pray'd him, "If they pay this tax, they starve." Whereat he stared, replying, half-amazed, "You would not let your little finger ache For such as these?" -- "But I would die," said she. He laugh'd, and swore by Peter and by Paul; Then fillip'd at the diamond in her ear; "Oh ay, ay, ay, you talk!" -- "Alas!" she said, "But prove me what I would not do." And from a heart as rough as Esau's hand, He answer'd, "Ride you naked thro' the town, And I repeal it;" and nodding, as in scorn, He parted, with great strides among his dogs.

So left alone, the passions of her mind, As winds from all the compass shift and blow, Made war upon each other for an hour, Till pity won. She sent a herald forth, And bade him cry, with sound of trumpet, all The hard condition; but that she would loose The people: therefore, as they loved her well, From then till noon no foot should pace the street, No eye look down, she passing; but that all Should keep within, door shut, and window barr'd.

Then fled she to her inmost bower, and there Unclasp'd the wedded eagles of her belt, The grim Earl's gift; but ever at a breath She linger'd, looking like a summer moon Half-dipt in cloud: anon she shook her head, And shower'd the rippled ringlets to her knee; Unclad herself in haste; adown the stair Stole on; and, like a creeping sunbeam, slid From pillar unto pillar, until she reach'd The Gateway, there she found her palfrey trapt In purple blazon'd with armorial gold.

Then she rode forth, clothed on with chastity: The deep air listen'd round her as she rode, And all the low wind hardly breathed for fear. The little wide-mouth'd heads upon the spout Had cunning eyes to see: the barking cur Made her cheek flame; her palfrey's foot-fall shot Light horrors thro' her pulses; the blind walls Were full of chinks and holes; and overhead Fantastic gables, crowding, stared: but she Not less thro' all bore up, till, last, she saw The white-flower'd elder-thicket from the field, Gleam thro' the Gothic archway in the wall.

Then she rode back, clothed on with chastity; And one low churl, compact of thankless earth, The fatal byword of all years to come, Boring a little auger-hole in fear, Peep'd -- but his eyes, before they had their will, Were shrivel'd into darkness in his head, And dropt before him. So the Powers, who wait On noble deeds, cancell'd a sense misused; And she, that knew not, pass'd: and all at once, With twelve great shocks of sound, the shameless noon Was clash'd and hammer'd from a hundred towers, One after one: but even then she gain'd Her bower; whence reissuing, robed and crown'd, To meet her lord, she took the tax away And built herself an everlasting name.

[mosaicmusings]

My Books, 2020!

The Ramayana

Tarot- Marissa Kennerson

The Giant’s Harp- Robert Hunter

The Lords and Other Creatures- Jim Morrison

Leviathan- Robert Shea and Robert A. Wilson

Tao: The Watercourse Way- Alan Watts

Slaughterhouse-Five- Kurt Vonnegut

The Stranger- AlbertCamus

Book of Haikus- Jack Kerouac

Good Omens- Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett

The Story of B- Daniel Quinn

The Subterraneans- Jack Kerouac

The Outsiders- S.E. Hinton

The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test- Tom Wolfe

The Western Lands- William S Burroughs

Tennyson

Deadheads- Kelly

Steal this Book- Abby Hoffman

Steppenwolf- Herman Hesse

Something Good for a Change- Wavy Gravy

Desert Solitaire- Edward Abbey

The Furthur Inquiry- Ken Kesey

The Soft Machine- William S Burroughs

Fablehaven (all 5 books)- Brandon Mull

Son of a Witch- Gregory Maguire

Dharma Bums- Jack Kerouac

No Nature- GarySnyder

Principia Discordia- Malaclypse the Younger

The Four Agreements- Don Miguel Ruiz

Looking for Jack Kerouac- Barbara Shoup

The Pearl- John Steinbeck

Dreamers of Dreams- Olsen and Swinburn

Monday Night Class- Stephen Gaskin

Big Magic- Elizabeth Gilbert

Mountains Meadows and Moonbeams- Mary Summer Rain

DMT: the Spirit Molecule- Rick Strassman

Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes- Susanne Collins

Who Shot the Water Buffalo?- Ken Babbs

The Monkey Wrench Gang- Edward Abbey

Zen without Zen Masters- Camden Benares

Tuck Everlasting- Natalie Babbit

Woodstock Nation- Abbie Hoffman

Just Kids- Patti Smith

Walden- Henry David Thoreau

If We Were Villains- M.L. Rio

Julius Caesar- Shakespeare

Lady in Gold- Marie O’Connor

Midsummer Night’s Dream- Shakespeare

The Secret- Rhonda Byrne

Junkie- William S Burroughs

Cannery Row- John Steinbeck

The Wizard of Oz- L. Frank Baum

The Gateway- Obert Skye

Macbeth- Shakespeare

Welcome to the Monkey House- Kurt Vonnegut

The English Patient- Michael Ondaatje

The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test- Thomas Wolfe

Into the Wild- Jon Krakauer

[artdaily7]

Excerpt from Godiva by Lord Alfred Tennyson

So left alone, the passions of her mind, As winds from all the compass shift and blow, Made war upon each other for an hour, Till pity won. She sent a herald forth, And bade him cry, with sound of trumpet, all The hard condition; but that she would loose The people: therefore, as they loved her well, From then till noon no foot should pace the street, No eye look down, she passing; but that all Should keep within, door shut, and window barr'd.

Then fled she to her inmost bower, and there Unclasp'd the wedded eagles of her belt, The grim Earl's gift; but ever at a breath She linger'd, looking like a summer moon Half-dipt in cloud: anon she shook her head, And shower'd the rippled ringlets to her knee; Unclad herself in haste; adown the stair Stole on; and, like a creeping sunbeam, slid From pillar unto pillar, until she reach'd The Gateway, there she found her palfrey trapt In purple blazon'd with armorial gold.

1. John Collier 1897-8 Lady Godiva, oil on canvas, Herbert Art Gallery and Museum

2. John Thomas 1860 Lady Godiva, Marble, Maidstone Museum, Kent, England

[architectnews]

Coast House, Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs

Coast House, Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs Home, New South Wales Real Estate Building, Australian Interior Architecture Photos

Coast House in Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs

22 Apr 2021

Coast House in Sydney

Design: Luke Moloney Architecture

Location: Sydney, New South Wales, Australia

Coast House is a single-storey cottage overlooking the ocean received a new first floor to take advantage of spectacular coastal views.

An economical design tailors simple materials to make a comfortable home for a busy couple with young children. The pitched roof form in the living spaces on the upper floor creates a generously-proportioned series of rooms, addressing the ocean view.

A cut-out corner of the balcony serves to frame views south along the coastline, while offering privacy from the block of flats next door.

Mirrors and skylights in the living rooms bring in northern sun and amplify views in a tight floor plate, increasing the sense of space.

The form of the garage recalls seaside bathing pavilions.

Coast House in Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs, NSW – Building Information

Architects: Luke Moloney Architecture Completion date: 2019 Building levels: 2

Photography © Tom Ferguson

Coast House, Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs images / information received 220421

Location: Sydney, New South Wales, Australia

Architecture in Sydney

Sydney Architecture Designs – architectural selection below:

Sydney Houses – a selection of the best contemporary properties in this New South Wales city.

Sydney Architecture

Sydney Central Station Development, Henry Deane Plaza, Central Business District Design: SOM and Fender Katsalidis image © SOM | Fender Katsalidis Sydney Central Station Development The design by SOM and Fender Katsalidis is set to transform the western edge of Central Station. New commercial buildings and public realm improvements will enhance this southern gateway to the CBD, revitalizing and reconnecting the precinct to the city.

Pitt Street OSD and metro station, corner of Park & Pitt streets Design: Foster + Partners image © Foster + Partners Pitt Street Over Station Development The building is located immediately above the northern entrance to Pitt Street Station, a crucial hub for the new Sydney Metro. The north station entrance plaza naturally fronts onto the tree lined Park Street which is one of the most prominent east-west cross-streets in Sydney.

NSW Properties

Twin Houses Architects: Architecture Saville Isaacs photo : Kata Bayer Twin Houses in Sydney Responding to the irregular site boundary and contextual differences, the houses take on different yet complementary forms. No.2 presents a street façade of sensually curved brick mass with window penetrations.

Garden House Architects: James Design Studio photograph : Simon Whitbread Garden House in New South Wales Garden House is a new house in the upper north shore using vernacular forms and gables defined by differing materials with a link in the middle giving a glimpse of what lies beyond while providing a framework for privacy.

Tennyson Point House Architects: CplusC Architectural Workshop photograph : Murray Fredericks Tennyson Point House

YrdPods Architects: Kreis Grennan Architecture photo : Douglas Frost YrdPod Garden House

Sydney Architect Studios

Australian Architecture

Australian Houses

Comments / photos for the Coast House, Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs page welcome

Sydney, NSW

The post Coast House, Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs appeared first on e-architect.

[lahilden]

Craigcrook Castle

Craigcrook Castle is located in Edinburgh, Scotland. The majority of the castle was built in the 17thcentury, likely upon an earlier fortification. The property went through a variety of owners and expansions throughout its history and is now under the ownership of Craigcrook Mortification. Originally the castle had a Z-plan design but due to several additions, there are many styles incorporated. The three-story castle sits on 4.4 acres and has a round tower on the SW corner and a square tower on the NE corner. In the 19thcentury, Lord Francis Jeffrey owned the property and hosted retreats for literary artists. Charles Dickens, Hans Christian Anderson, George Elliot, and Alfred Lord Tennyson have all stayed at Craigcrook Castle. The castle has two reception rooms, a study, a kitchen, a cinema room, a game room, a gym, a servant flat, a gatehouse, an enclosed garden from the 17thcentury with an arched gateway, and more. The grand hall boasts oak floors, carved wood paneling, and a griffin inspired mosaic fireplace. Craigcrook Castle was commercially leased. In the 1970s an L-shaped annex building was added to the castle’s eastern wing. The castle has remained on the real estate market since 2014 with an asking price of £5 million. Craigcrook Castle is not open to the public. 

[illustratus]

The Death of King Arthur

[payment-providers]

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Ring Out, Wild Thoughts | PYMNTS.com

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The PYMNTS Christmas poem (with heavy assistance from Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s “Ring Out, Wild Bells”)

Ring out, wild thoughts, to a decade new, Innovation shining bright. This decade’s dying in the night; Let it go, let new ways to pay through. Ring out the checks, whenever they’re sent, Slow and old and out of date. Ring out the payments on which you wait, Ring in the new, an instant payment.

Ring out waiting in a line, Checking your watch at the POS. Ring in the age of checkout cashierless; Ring in getting back more time.

Ring out just changing a form factor, Though consumers like using cards to pay; Ring in real changes, ring in new ways To make digital payments relevant to all actors.

Ring out the fraudsters, ring out hackers And rules-based systems lying broken. Ring in AI, biometrics and the use of data tokens To better repel those armies of attackers.

Ring out can’t, ring out impossible; Quantum computing is now on the table. Ring in the new ideas that will enable Making payment capabilities ready, willing and newly actionable.

Ring out the fight between FIs and FinTech. That forces customer choice. Ring in hearing the customer voice; Ring in letting them choose what works best.

Ring out now the 2010s, A decade that changed how we pay and buy. Now it’s time to let it die, So the 2020s can begin.

Ring in what’s new, Ring in what’s next, Though we don’t know quite what to expect; We’ll be here to guide you through.

Happy Holidays from your friends at PYMNTS!

——————————–

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Our data and analytics team has developed a number of creative methodologies and frameworks that measure and benchmark the innovation that’s reshaping the payments and commerce ecosystem. The Key To Optimizing Merchant Services Study, a PYMNTS collaboration with Endava, examines merchants services providers’ (MSPs) current and future strategies for innovating value-added services. It is based on a survey of executives at more than 200 MSPs, including acquirers, independent sales organizations, payment gateways and payment facilitators.

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[mysterious-secret-garden]

Lancelot Looks At The Dead Lady Of Shalott On Her Arrival At Camelot. Coloured Illustration From The Book The Gateway To Tennyson Published 1910.

[livmoose]

Locksley Hall

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Comrades, leave me here a little, while as yet 't is early morn: Leave me here, and when you want me, sound upon the bugle-horn. 'T is the place, and all around it, as of old, the curlews call, Dreary gleams about the moorland flying over Locksley Hall; Locksley Hall, that in the distance overlooks the sandy tracts, And the hollow ocean-ridges roaring into cataracts. Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere I went to rest, Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly to the West. Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising thro' the mellow shade, Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid. Here about the beach I wander'd, nourishing a youth sublime With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time; When the centuries behind me like a fruitful land reposed; When I clung to all the present for the promise that it closed: When I dipt into the future far as human eye could see; Saw the Vision of the world and all the wonder that would be.— In the Spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin's breast; In the Spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest; In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.

Then her cheek was pale and thinner than should be for one so young, And her eyes on all my motions with a mute observance hung. And I said, "My cousin Amy, speak, and speak the truth to me, Trust me, cousin, all the current of my being sets to thee." On her pallid cheek and forehead came a colour and a light, As I have seen the rosy red flushing in the northern night. And she turn'd—her bosom shaken with a sudden storm of sighs— All the spirit deeply dawning in the dark of hazel eyes— Saying, "I have hid my feelings, fearing they should do me wrong"; Saying, "Dost thou love me, cousin?" weeping, "I have loved thee long." Love took up the glass of Time, and turn'd it in his glowing hands; Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands. Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight. Many a morning on the moorland did we hear the copses ring, And her whisper throng'd my pulses with the fulness of the Spring. Many an evening by the waters did we watch the stately ships, And our spirits rush'd together at the touching of the lips. O my cousin, shallow-hearted! O my Amy, mine no more! O the dreary, dreary moorland! O the barren, barren shore! Falser than all fancy fathoms, falser than all songs have sung, Puppet to a father's threat, and servile to a shrewish tongue! Is it well to wish thee happy?—having known me—to decline On a range of lower feelings and a narrower heart than mine! Yet it shall be; thou shalt lower to his level day by day, What is fine within thee growing coarse to sympathize with clay. As the husband is, the wife is: thou art mated with a clown, And the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag thee down. He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse. What is this? his eyes are heavy; think not they are glazed with wine. Go to him, it is thy duty, kiss him, take his hand in thine. It may be my lord is weary, that his brain is overwrought: Soothe him with thy finer fancies, touch him with thy lighter thought. He will answer to the purpose, easy things to understand— Better thou wert dead before me, tho' I slew thee with my hand! Better thou and I were lying, hidden from the heart's disgrace, Roll'd in one another's arms, and silent in a last embrace. Cursed be the social wants that sin against the strength of youth! Cursed be the social lies that warp us from the living truth! Cursed be the sickly forms that err from honest Nature's rule! Cursed be the gold that gilds the straiten'd forehead of the fool! Well—'t is well that I should bluster!—Hadst thou less unworthy proved— Would to God—for I had loved thee more than ever wife was loved. Am I mad, that I should cherish that which bears but bitter fruit? I will pluck it from my bosom, tho' my heart be at the root. Never, tho' my mortal summers to such length of years should come As the many-winter'd crow that leads the clanging rookery home. Where is comfort? in division of the records of the mind? Can I part her from herself, and love her, as I knew her, kind? I remember one that perish'd; sweetly did she speak and move; Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was to love. Can I think of her as dead, and love her for the love she bore? No—she never loved me truly; love is love for evermore. Comfort? comfort scorn'd of devils! this is truth the poet sings, That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things. Drug thy memories, lest thou learn it, lest thy heart be put to proof, In the dead unhappy night, and when the rain is on the roof. Like a dog, he hunts in dreams, and thou art staring at the wall, Where the dying night-lamp flickers, and the shadows rise and fall. Then a hand shall pass before thee, pointing to his drunken sleep, To thy widow'd marriage-pillows, to the tears that thou wilt weep. Thou shalt hear the "Never, never," whisper'd by the phantom years, And a song from out the distance in the ringing of thine ears; And an eye shall vex thee, looking ancient kindness on thy pain. Turn thee, turn thee on thy pillow; get thee to thy rest again. Nay, but Nature brings thee solace; for a tender voice will cry. 'T is a purer life than thine, a lip to drain thy trouble dry. Baby lips will laugh me down; my latest rival brings thee rest. Baby fingers, waxen touches, press me from the mother's breast. O, the child too clothes the father with a dearness not his due. Half is thine and half is his: it will be worthy of the two. O, I see thee old and formal, fitted to thy petty part, With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter's heart. "They were dangerous guides the feelings—she herself was not exempt— Truly, she herself had suffer'd"—Perish in thy self-contempt! Overlive it—lower yet—be happy! wherefore should I care? I myself must mix with action, lest I wither by despair. What is that which I should turn to, lighting upon days like these? Every door is barr'd with gold, and opens but to golden keys. Every gate is throng'd with suitors, all the markets overflow. I have but an angry fancy; what is that which I should do? I had been content to perish, falling on the foeman's ground, When the ranks are roll'd in vapour, and the winds are laid with sound. But the jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honour feels, And the nations do but murmur, snarling at each other's heels. Can I but relive in sadness? I will turn that earlier page. Hide me from my deep emotion, O thou wondrous Mother-Age! Make me feel the wild pulsation that I felt before the strife, When I heard my days before me, and the tumult of my life; Yearning for the large excitement that the coming years would yield, Eager-hearted as a boy when first he leaves his father's field, And at night along the dusky highway near and nearer drawn, Sees in heaven the light of London flaring like a dreary dawn; And his spirit leaps within him to be gone before him then, Underneath the light he looks at, in among the throngs of men: Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new: That which they have done but earnest of the things that they shall do: For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be; Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails, Pilots of the purple twilight dropping down with costly bales; Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rain'd a ghastly dew From the nations' airy navies grappling in the central blue; Far along the world-wide whisper of the south-wind rushing warm, With the standards of the peoples plunging thro' the thunder-storm; Till the war-drum throbb'd no longer, and the battle-flags were furl'd In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world. There the common sense of most shall hold a fretful realm in awe, And the kindly earth shall slumber, lapt in universal law. So I triumph'd ere my passion sweeping thro' me left me dry, Left me with the palsied heart, and left me with the jaundiced eye; Eye, to which all order festers, all things here are out of joint: Science moves, but slowly, slowly, creeping on from point to point: Slowly comes a hungry people, as a lion, creeping nigher, Glares at one that nods and winks behind a slowly-dying fire. Yet I doubt not thro' the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widen'd with the process of the suns. What is that to him that reaps not harvest of his youthful joys, Tho' the deep heart of existence beat for ever like a boy's? Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore, And the individual withers, and the world is more and more. Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and he bears a laden breast, Full of sad experience, moving toward the stillness of his rest. Hark, my merry comrades call me, sounding on the bugle-horn, They to whom my foolish passion were a target for their scorn: Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a moulder'd string? I am shamed thro' all my nature to have loved so slight a thing. Weakness to be wroth with weakness! woman's pleasure, woman's pain— Nature made them blinder motions bounded in a shallower brain: Woman is the lesser man, and all thy passions, match'd with mine, Are as moonlight unto sunlight, and as water unto wine— Here at least, where nature sickens, nothing. Ah, for some retreat Deep in yonder shining Orient, where my life began to beat; Where in wild Mahratta-battle fell my father evil-starr'd,— I was left a trampled orphan, and a selfish uncle's ward. Or to burst all links of habit—there to wander far away, On from island unto island at the gateways of the day. Larger constellations burning, mellow moons and happy skies, Breadths of tropic shade and palms in cluster, knots of Paradise. Never comes the trader, never floats an European flag, Slides the bird o'er lustrous woodland, swings the trailer from the crag; Droops the heavy-blossom'd bower, hangs the heavy-fruited tree— Summer isles of Eden lying in dark-purple spheres of sea. There methinks would be enjoyment more than in this march of mind, In the steamship, in the railway, in the thoughts that shake mankind. There the passions cramp'd no longer shall have scope and breathing space; I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my dusky race. Iron-jointed, supple-sinew'd, they shall dive, and they shall run, Catch the wild goat by the hair, and hurl their lances in the sun; Whistle back the parrot's call, and leap the rainbows of the brooks, Not with blinded eyesight poring over miserable books— Fool, again the dream, the fancy! but I know my words are wild, But I count the gray barbarian lower than the Christian child. I, to herd with narrow foreheads, vacant of our glorious gains, Like a beast with lower pleasures, like a beast with lower pains! Mated with a squalid savage—what to me were sun or clime? I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time— I that rather held it better men should perish one by one, Than that earth should stand at gaze like Joshua's moon in Ajalon! Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forward let us range, Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change. Thro' the shadow of the globe we sweep into the younger day; Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay. Mother-Age (for mine I knew not) help me as when life begun: Rift the hills, and roll the waters, flash the lightnings, weigh the Sun. O, I see the crescent promise of my spirit hath not set. Ancient founts of inspiration well thro' all my fancy yet. Howsoever these things be, a long farewell to Locksley Hall! Now for me the woods may wither, now for me the roof-tree fall. Comes a vapour from the margin, blackening over heath and holt, Cramming all the blast before it, in its breast a thunderbolt. Let it fall on Locksley Hall, with rain or hail, or fire or snow; For the mighty wind arises, roaring seaward, and I go.

[cynthiabryanuk]

12 Best Hiking Holiday Destinations In The UK

If you’ve got a love of the great outdoors and a sense of adventure that’s itching to be unleashed, then a hiking holiday is for you. It’s not only amazing exercise – the breathtaking views you’ll discover en route are well worth the hard work. Challenge yourself to scale a mountain or take things slow with a stroll in the forest. Whatever your age and ability, a hiking holiday is sure to leave you feeling refreshed and inspired.

Top hiking holidays in the UK

After a long day of walking, put your feet up at your own private holiday rental. Whether you love the peace and quiet of a cottage tucked away in a sleepy village, or want to spread out in a spacious townhouse with pubs and restaurants nearby, Holiday Lettings has got it covered.

*Methodology: We analysed all UK holiday rental reviews on TripAdvisor. (Holiday Lettings is a TripAdvisor company). Selected hiking destinations needed to be among some of the highest-rated in the country (minimum 100 lifetime total reviews), and have a sufficient amount of properties available to book on Holiday Lettings.

#1 Drymen, Loch Lomond and The Trossachs National Park

The beautiful village of Drymen in Stirling is the ideal base from which to enjoy one of Scotland’s most stunning National Parks. Whether you’re new to walking holidays or you’re an experienced hiker, there are routes to suit all abilities. For a strenuous (but exhilarating) hike, ascend the Sron a’ Chlachain peak for glorious views of Killin and Loch Tay. Or if you want to take things easy, stroll through planted forest and native woodland at Acharn Forest. There are so many options when it comes to walking in this area. And, with cosy boltholes or even modern cottages nearby, you’ll be spoilt for choice for rentals, too.

Pick a place in Drymen

#2 Carlisle, Cumbria

Welcome to the charming Carlisle – Cumbria’s charming cathedral city. The surrounding Lake District has been inspiring poets, artists and writers for hundreds of years. It’s easy to fall under its spell when you look out over the mountains in this breathtaking part of the world. Experienced hikers will probably be keen to scale the world-famous Scafell Pike with its wild and rocky terrain, while those looking to follow in William Wordsworth’s footsteps should wander over to Ullswater to laze on a riverbank and watch the daffodils. And after a day spent exploring the beautiful waterfalls and woodlands nearby, why not put your feet up in your own private holiday rental? From lakeland stone townhouses with exposed beams to quirky cottages on the outskirts, there are lots of options in Carlisle.

Choose your favourite place to relax in Carlisle

#3 Bangor, County Down

The beautiful seaside town of Bangor is perfect for mountain holidays as there are so many places to explore nearby. The imposing granite tors and lofty peaks of the dramatic Mourne Mountains will take your breath away, and the Glen River walk is a great way to see this range in all its glory. Wildlife enthusiasts and those walking with children should check out the Quoile Pondage Nature Reserve on the outskirts of Downpatrick. Your pedometer will be stacking up the steps without you even realising it as you’ll be busy spotting colourful wild roses, rare species of birds and wildfowl. And if the sea is your ideal backdrop for a hike, the North Down Coastal Path is the place for you.

See all rentals in Bangor

#4 Ullapool, Scottish Highlands

From a gentle amble along the Fife Coastal Path to a hefty hike on the Great Glen way, the Scottish Highlands has some of the best walking routes in the world. A rental in Ullapool is a great choice as you can enjoy walks along the traditional harbour or tuck into some hearty pub grub to refuel after scaling the slopes of nearby Stac Pollaidh. If you love discovering historical sites, choose a route past Melrose Abbey or follow the Cateran Trail to discover ancient tracks used by cattle rustlers (Caterans) who plundered glens from the Middle Ages to the 17th century. When you’re ready to rest, a cosy cottage rental or a secluded cabin in the woods awaits!

See all stays in Ullapool

#5 Dumfries, Dumfries and Galloway

Expect a warm and friendly welcome when you stay in Dumfries. This pretty town was once home to the poet, Robert Burns. Nearby, you’ll find atmospheric forests, rugged hills and picturesque villages, so you’re sure to find the perfect hiking route for you. Take a stroll along the Solway Coast to the Merrick, or maybe try the popular hill ascent above Loch Trool. If you need some refreshment, you’ll find plenty of traditional pubs and quaint cafes on the way. This area is beautiful all year round, so why not book a romantic trekking holiday this autumn?

Book a break in Dumfries

#6 St Agnes, Cornwall

With over 300 miles of coastal path and 2,400 miles of inland trails, Cornwall is a hiker’s paradise. One of the best places to stay if you’re looking to make the most of these trails is St Agnes, due to its proximity to some of the best walking routes. The Pendennis Point, Falmouth to Maenporth route on the south coast is great for all ages and abilities and includes impressive views south towards the Lizard and east towards Plymouth. For (even) more stunning scenery, head to Widemouth Bay and walk to Pentire Point. This Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty on the north coast will leave you feeling refreshed and revived. You’ll find these routes and many more when you book a hiking holiday in Cornwall.

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#7 Brecon, Brecon Beacons National Park

Lush green glades, sparkling waterfalls and magical caves make hiking holidays in the Brecon Beacons feel like you’ve stepped into a fairy-tale. The town of Brecon is the perfect base for exploring the 600+ miles of bridle paths and tracks that criss-cross this area. Take some binoculars with you to get a good look at the Red Kites as you walk; these magnificent birds of prey are now common in the region. For a little light refreshment, enjoy a freshly made scone at one of the pretty farmhouse cafes in the area. After a day spent in the great outdoors, you’ll love returning to your tranquil cottage to relax before dinner.

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#8 Chipping Campden, Cotswolds

Whether you relish the challenge of hiking up a hill or want to take it easy with a gentle stroll, the Cotswolds is rich in hiking and walking opportunities. The utterly charming village of Chipping Campden boasts some of the best holiday rentals in the area, so it’s a wonderful place to choose a classic cottage to rent for a relaxing getaway. There’s also a variety of circular walks which include level and stile-free routes ideal for wheelchairs and easy access.

If you’re feeling energetic, why not complete the Cotswold Way National Trail? This 102-mile route takes walkers through some of the Cotswolds’ best scenery with historic monuments and pretty villages en route. The rolling hills and lush woodland surrounding Chipping Campden is sure to make any hiker or keen walker want to return again and again.

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#9 Winchester, Hampshire

For lovers of history and architecture, Winchester is an excellent base for a hiking holiday in Hampshire. Visit The Great Hall where you can see an interpretation of King Arthur’s round table, head to the bustling cultural quarter of the city where you can watch a play or listen to live music. But don’t forget the surrounding landscape: Hampshire has some of England’s most inspiring countryside where ancient woodlands, secluded valleys and open down lands sit side by side. Popular routes in the area include the Clarendon Way, the Wayfarer’s Walk and the South Downs Way National Trail.

Book your hiking break in Winchester

#10 Welshpool, Powys

This pretty market town in Wales is famous for its elegant Georgian buildings, Montgomery Canal and the 17th-century Powis Castle and Gardens. It’s a great place to stay when you’re hiking in the region. If you’ve never experienced the thrill of climbing to the summit of a mountain, Pen y fan is a good place to start. Or for a nice easy walk long the lake, hike along Llyn Safaddan in Llangorse where you can enjoy a picnic as a reward at the end. You’ll find a wide array of rentals in the area, from log cabins to converted barns, so picking a place to stay is easy.

Find a wonderful walking holiday in Welshpool

#11 The Lizard, Cornwall

This picture-perfect peninsula in Southern Cornwall is perfect for a hiking holiday. You have some fantastic inland trails and coastal paths right on your doorstep! For an easy but rewarding hike, start at the impressive Lizard Lighthouse, Tennyson’s “Southern Eyes of Britain”. You’ll also see the huge conical hole in the cliff top know as ‘Lions Den’ created when a sea cave collapsed in 1847. The Old Coastguard lookout on this route is still manned and, as you head into the more remote sections of the Cornwall Coast Path, you will be logged in as you pass. At the end of a day outdoors, there’s nothing like kicking back and relaxing in the cosy atmosphere of your private rental.

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#12 Fort William, Lochaber

Known as the gateway to Ben Nevis, this beautiful town has plenty of independent shops and restaurants, so it’s a great place to base yourself for a walking holiday in the area. If you love expansive beaches, take a walk along the Ardnamurchan peninsula with its fabulous views of The Small Isles and Ardnamurchan Point. Shell collectors will love it here, too, as the white sandy beach is strewn with sparkling treasures. And, of course, Ben Nevis will be a major highlight for hiking enthusiasts during their stay.

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The post 12 Best Hiking Holiday Destinations In The UK appeared first on Holiday Lettings Blog.

from News And Tips For Traveling https://blog.holidaylettings.co.uk/best-hiking-holiday-destinations-uk/

[full-imagination]

Doshia Bishop Parnell

Theadoshia “Doshia” Bishop Parnell, 100, of Spartanburg, SC, died Thursday, June 7, 2018, at Spartanburg Regional Hospice Home. Born June 15, 1917, in Spartanburg, she was the daughter of the late Charlie O. Bishop and Annie Lillian Cabiness Bishop. Mrs. Parnell loved the Lord, her church, Gateway Baptist Church, her family and cooking Sunday lunch for everyone. She was employed at Drayton Mill for 20 years, The Standard Dress Shop, and then retired as a beautician. Survivors include her son, Leonard D. Bishop Sr. (Denise) of West Springs, SC; seven grandchildren; nine great-grandchildren; two great-great-grandchildren; sister, Betty Tennyson (Bill) of Chesnee, SC; brother, Howard Bishop of Spartanburg, SC; and daughter-in-law, Gail Bishop. In addition to her parents, she was predeceased by her first husband, Doc Bishop; second husband, William Parnell; son, Robert “Bob” Bishop; two grandchildren; and 10 brothers and sisters. Visitation will be 1:00-1:45 PM Sunday, June 10, 2018, at Floyd’s Greenlawn Chapel, 2075 E. Main St., Spartanburg, SC 29307, with funeral services following at 2:00 PM, conducted by the Rev. Tim Ramsey. Committal will be at the chapel with burial in Greenlawn Memorial Gardens, 1300 Fernwood-Glendale Rd., Spartanburg, SC 29307. Please wear bright spring colors to celebrate a beautiful life. Floyd’s Greenlawn Chapel from The JF Floyd Mortuary Crematory & Cemeteries via Spartanburg Funeral

[jhunmarx-blog]

literature blog....

Alfred Lord Tennyson was born August 6th, 1809, at Somersby, Lincolnshire, fourth of twelve children of George and Elizabeth (Fytche) Tennyson. The contrast of his own family's relatively straitened circumstances to the great wealth of his aunt Elizabeth Russell and Uncle Charles Tennyson made Tennyson feel particularly impoverished and led him to worry about money all his life. Tennyson was most well-loved Victorian poets and he established it at the age of 41. He made a mark in the Victorian era which is well known today and being benefited as well.  One of his awesome poems was “crossing the Bar”. It is one poem I really like, why? It is the way he made the poem and the style he used, yes it is ordinary but we have different perspective and point of views in viewing such a piece. It made my views in life clearer.

              Crossing the Bar points out life and death. The uncertainties when we depart from here, and the things that we will encounter in the afterlife. But while we’re here make the most of it because life is too short and we don’t realize that we are wasting it in things that are not important. The poem tells us that death is not the end it is the gateway to the afterlife that we can have a better and a happy place to live, thus we leave our love ones at ease and without doubt and awe. So that you can have a better story with God.

[illustratus]

Fighting Knights in Armour.

Coloured illustration from the book The Gateway to Tennyson published 1910.