Buried deep in the folds and dales of middle England this memorial to the past stands a lonely sentinel. A witness to the whimsical eccentricities of the caprice of the chronometer. Its man made passage cataloguing vagaries of the follies of man.
Forgotten by its makers it stands alone a picket against all that nature can project at and against it.
What a load of bollocks! The problem is it was actually quite enjoyable putting such nonsense together. I asked Word’s AI co-pilot (I believe at the time of writing this is mostly OpenAI’s mussings – I could be wrong) to rewrite. It came up with some equally pompous nonsense which didn’t sound like me. Nor was it as much fund to concoct. I may not be the most eloquent writer but I do enjoy come up with my own brand of nonsense.
Of course the reality doesn’t match up to the syrupy twaddle. Perhaps the only ‘fact’ contained within it is that it does stand in or on the border of Hrepingas (the early Medieval name for the people who settled in and around what became modern Repton). Yes, the bales of straw are standing in the undulating countryside in Isley Walton and has a certain bucolic charm. Unfortunately, this is shatter either by a plane taking off from East Midlands Airport or vehicles racing around Donington Park.
Of course the reason for me standing in a field on the Leicestershire/Derbyshire border is that I am on the trail of images for the next photographic project – Paradise – Consumed. This will cover the district council area of North West Leicestershire (whilst it still exists). I have not really worked on this project much since the winter so my intention is to try and plough on regardless during the autumn and see where I am by Christmas. Wish me luck.
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