Vindolanda ...

We spent the day at Vindolanda, visiting the elegant museum, lolling on the warm soft turf, watching the young volunteers delving with their sharp trowels, lingering in the Shrine of the Nymphs - 

Our host gave us a lift to the Roman settlement - we all squeezed into the worn family Peugeot - 

Julia said that the farm house seemed sheltered in its valley - the young father replied in winter we feel the weather - 

I saw the shadows of clouds moving over windswept moorland - I imagined snow, or rain, chilling bones - 

Soon we were exploring the ruins of the Roman settlement -

In the museum, behind cunningly lit glass, were some of the Vindolanda Letters - I gazed for some time at these poignant fragments - 

There were translations provided of the delicate scratches of Latin - 

Chrautius, to Reddius, his old messmate, greetings -

An intaglio depicted a youth entwined with snakes - a bowl was decorated with images of nervous hares - a glass bowl was decorated by a scene of gladiatorial combat - vessels of Samian ware invited wine - 

We met the Californian once more - his wife and son were with him - they were working on the dig - the willowy boy told us that he had unearthed a small stone head - I pictured him, cradling the delicate marble head in his hands, brushing the dry earth from its frozen curls -

Despite my fears, the bus arrived on time to take us back to Steel Rigg -

The farm's just over the bank the driver said - I could already taste the Pennine Pale - 

10 July 2014

Vindolanda