Sven says:

Many kinds of thoughts coming up

This place has kidnapped my soul

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This was a wood of birches, growing on a steep, craggy side of a mountain that overhung the loch. It had many openings and ferny howes; and a road or bridle track ran north and south through the midst of it, by the edge of which, where was a spring, I sat down to eat some oat-bread …
Robert Louis Stevenson: Kidnapped, chapter 17.

Ian Hamilton Finlay was a poet, sculptor, and gardener. I believe he thought of this passage from Kidnapped when he created the Stevenson Memorial Grove in Edinburgh, just below the castle.

Written by svensays

October 7, 2010 at 16:44

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