Thursday afternoon, 23rd January 2014, Midwinter

A great wind blows me along the coffin walk from Zennor to Wicca. I look up at the tower like house at Tregerthen and think of D.H. Lawrence looking down;


"Here the winds are so black and terrible. They rush with such force that the house shudders, though the old walls are very solid and thick. Only occasionally the gulls rise very slowly into the air. And all the while the wind rushes and thuds and booms, and all the while the sea is hoarse and heavy. It is strange, one forgets the rest of life. It shuts one in within its massive violent world. Sometimes a wave bursts with a great explosion against one of the outlying rocks and there is a tremendous ghost standing high on the sea, a great tall whiteness." 


D.H. Lawrence, Cornwall 1916