Mam Tor Hillfort View all content for Mam Tor

Cling to the Mother lest the winds blow you cartwheeling over Castleton, tossed like the hang-gliders below their flimsy gashes of colour against a perfect blue sky. Cling to the Mother, like you clung to your own mother's breast, and press your ear to the grass to hear the mountain's heartbeat. Cling to the Mother, to hold on to her before she slips away down the slope, her body crushed up for the smoking cement works you see below.

Posted by Serenissima 6th July 2001ce

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