sentinel
solemn solitary silent solace...
on the road from nimmitabel to dalgety there are a few isolated churches, dotted in the landscape with nothing of consequence around them, sentinels of a time long gone - perhaps when we all lived on the sheep's back.

they sit alone out on barren sweeping plains, buffeted by the winds blowing down off the alps, seemingly solemn and lonely...stained glass within commemorates sons lost in forgotten battles, whose heads were once wet in the christening fonts now dormant in dusty corners...

but life still goes on within them, notices of fetes and services adorn the walls, and like an open fire on a winters day, they provide solace to the kindred hearts that seek communion within...

the weather was cold and bleak when i went searching these places out, in stark contrast to the feelings within me - a whisper of darker times of solitary isolation - a distant echo of a memory banished through the company of a loved one...

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