![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Ravenscraig
Nov. 13th, 2023 10:58 amFatigue makes everything hard. Up since 3 am. Why?
I had a beautiful Saturday; the charity did a little walk around Ravenscraig, to see if the posts there could be replaced; there are few of them and they are battered, often lost in the overgrowth. But if we could get a grant, we might replace them then put QR codes on them, linking directly back to the web page with stories/facts/info about the various bits and pieces to be found here. There is so much!
The light was a dream, Ravenscraig itself lovely... and a little bit strange.
Possibly called that for the eponymous birds of course, but earlier records give it a different name: Reaven/Reavers craig. Reavers has a very specific meaning known to people in these parts, alluding to those raiders/cattle thieves long ago associated with the border country, from whom we get the word bereave. And that might make a lot of sense; time was was when this was wild and desolate country.
It has an ancient cairn, discovered in the 1990s, and left to itself with the assumption that it's been raided and emptied long ago. But I don't think there's been any proper archeological dig down into it. With trees and grass and uneven land all around, the cairn's easily overlooked.
This is the way in.
It's all sealed up down there but doesn't it look mysterious, an adventure in waiting?
Difficult to resist. Because my companions were looking at other stuff, I dragged myself away. We listened to crossbills high in the trees, found badger tracks and very fresh molehills, as well as endless interesting little fungi, wondered at the view; right below us lay the road where the silver man has been seen twice apparently, and a silver orb too... and I couldn't help wondering if the stories had seeped too long into my bones because I definitely felt watched, the sense of eyes upon my back.
Eventually we found the spies.
They're up a tall tree, usually hidden by foliage. We have been told that they were put there years ago in memory of a guy called Alec Allen, aka 'Fingers'. Apparently their names are Alec and Shirley.
It was a good day, and the day after was pleasant too. But here I sit, unable to type another thing.
I had a beautiful Saturday; the charity did a little walk around Ravenscraig, to see if the posts there could be replaced; there are few of them and they are battered, often lost in the overgrowth. But if we could get a grant, we might replace them then put QR codes on them, linking directly back to the web page with stories/facts/info about the various bits and pieces to be found here. There is so much!
The light was a dream, Ravenscraig itself lovely... and a little bit strange.
Possibly called that for the eponymous birds of course, but earlier records give it a different name: Reaven/Reavers craig. Reavers has a very specific meaning known to people in these parts, alluding to those raiders/cattle thieves long ago associated with the border country, from whom we get the word bereave. And that might make a lot of sense; time was was when this was wild and desolate country.
It has an ancient cairn, discovered in the 1990s, and left to itself with the assumption that it's been raided and emptied long ago. But I don't think there's been any proper archeological dig down into it. With trees and grass and uneven land all around, the cairn's easily overlooked.
This is the way in.
It's all sealed up down there but doesn't it look mysterious, an adventure in waiting?
Difficult to resist. Because my companions were looking at other stuff, I dragged myself away. We listened to crossbills high in the trees, found badger tracks and very fresh molehills, as well as endless interesting little fungi, wondered at the view; right below us lay the road where the silver man has been seen twice apparently, and a silver orb too... and I couldn't help wondering if the stories had seeped too long into my bones because I definitely felt watched, the sense of eyes upon my back.
Eventually we found the spies.
They're up a tall tree, usually hidden by foliage. We have been told that they were put there years ago in memory of a guy called Alec Allen, aka 'Fingers'. Apparently their names are Alec and Shirley.
It was a good day, and the day after was pleasant too. But here I sit, unable to type another thing.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}