Silently watching
Over wild Atlantic swells.
This dog is my rock.
Or maybe, ‘this rock is my dog’. I spotted this when walking back from Hawker’s Hut and I saw a dog, complete with ear. Since then I have googled and I cannot find any mention of it as a dog rock, or lion rock. I can’t be the only one to have noticed? Or maybe my googling skills are lacking. Actually, it could be that flying lion thing from Neverending Story. Anyway, whatever, it is today’s post.
Drugs and poetry,
The parson’s opium den.
Tucked against the cliff.
One of my problems is I don’t always think things through properly, and end up having to publish two posts in a day to clarify things. So my last post may have been confusing. Is that a bad thing? Well welcome to my world of perpetual bewilderment… So to give context to my last post – this is the full Hawker’s Hut. Named after a local parson, Robert Stephen Hawker(1803 – 1875),who built it from driftwood and timber retrieved from shipwrecks, with a turf roof. Still remarkably preserved, and owned by the National Trust. Hawker used the hut as a bolt hole, with beautiful views over the Atlantic Ocean, where he would write poetry and smoke opium.
Now the previous post makes sense?
A simple door latch,
Access to old Hawker’s Hut.
Secret hideaway.
I will post a photo of Hawker’s hut to give wider context, but I really liked this detail of the entrance. Hawker’s hut is in Morwenstow, Cornwall, in England. It is a Grade 2 listed wooden building, and the smallest property owned by the National Trust. You will see it in all its small but perfectly formed glory soon….
