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These are just fleeting thoughts from the heartland of the UK's colonial dustbin somewhere beyond the wall of sleep. Odd bits of music and so-called worldly wisdom may creep in from time to time. Don't expect too much and you won't feel let down. As ever AI and old age are to blame. I'll just leave it there ...
Monday, April 16, 2018
Caterthun
Ambling up White Caterthun hill fort in Angus we came upon these daffodils, a tribute and a quiet remembrance perhaps. I'm glad they found a sunny spot.
The ruins are pretty much ruined, boulders strew everywhere but he shape remains, speculation is that they were hill forts built up over 2000 years ago by Pictish tribes. Our distant relatives maybe, 1000ft up on a hill. Inside the defences some kind of good life would likely prevail. There was water (?), organisation, iron-works and basket weaving, safety from wild animals and protection from what must have been a difficult climate. That's one theory, I prefer the idea that the lonely White and Brown Caterthuns up there were base/supply ports for atmosphere craft and flying saucers.
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