Notes - what difference does that make?

         A visit with Dr. Bajaj this morning. Soup and salad for lunch at Olive Garden. You spent the afternoon working on updating and clarifying your health files and appointments for Medicare, Aetna, the family doctor, three specialists and an eye doctor as well as blood test results, prescriptions, payments and the like. Then to Kroger’s to pick up more supplies. Tomorrow Scott is coming to replace the outside basement door and frame. A surprise for the budget. – Amorella

         Lately, the real world has been showing itself and I am preoccupied the household obligations rather than wonderings and imagination. At least it has been unseasonably warm – today it was up to sixty and tomorrow fifty-eight, not bad for the end of January. No snow shovels either. We will take February one week at a time. The first week is supposed to continue mild with rain showers now and then. If we can get too March without snow or at least much of it, then next month will be a lot easier to handle – even if we have a big snow it won’t stay on the ground forever.

         This scene with Arthur and Merlyn will bring in some horniness – that is, imagination, as they talk about Vivian and Guinevere and the way it was in life. – Amorella

         That seems childish. I mean, they are mature men and dead, why would they want to talk about such things?

         Men or boys, alive or dead, the human condition remains in these books. Remember David’s thoughts in Grandma’s Story?

         I had forgotten this little story. I remember being concerned writing about David and Bathsheba because they are Biblical and I was concerned it might be offensive to G---D. It was/is my upbringing. Mother instilled in me at a young age that the Bible was/is sacred. I think she believed it was the direct word of G---D written down – like the Ten Commandments or something. Always a conflict growing up. A lot of pressure to fit in the norm. I don’t know why. Mom and Dad were fairly independent themselves.         

 ** **

Grandma’s Story – Chapter Eleven [Braided Dreams]

We return to three thousand years or so before the present, to a King and Queen in the Middle East. One summer day King David stood on the roof of his palace, and he noticed a woman with dark hair and dark features in a bath on a roof over what would be almost a city block away. Beauty is not the word he would have used. Perfection immediately came to mind and elsewhere too. How is this, he wondered, that perfection is so close to me when my perfection has now departed to G-d. Perhaps this perfection is a gift from G-d, he thought. I am king in his name, or I should be. I have done good works. I am of the loins of Abraham and Sarah. I am as Abraham still living. Perhaps she is a gift.

            He quickly found who the woman was. Bathsheba, wife of his good and loyal general, Uriah the Hittite, who loved soldiering and war more than anything else in the world. I have to touch this woman, thought David, she is heaven sent for a king no question about it.

            David felt justified as king that G-d would give him a present. It seemed the natural thing for G-d to do, to help him through his recent personal sorrows. When she arrived as ordered, David touched her and surprisingly, Bathsheba touched him back. She was not perfect. Perfection would elude even a king. His intuition about the woman below on a neighboring roof was quickly set straight in his mind and elsewhere too.

            Lust rushed in and stuck in his mind as an enemy spear. David became instantly terror struck. Lust is a present from G-d? I am stronger than that, he thought, and he sat and he confessed to this woman he had never met before what had almost over come him.

Bathsheba sat with him surprised at his unpretentious manner and understood how it felt to have lost a love as she once had years before. She held him in her arms as he cried like a child. He dismissed her at her own bidding so he might have some privacy and she too. This feeling of attachment was new to both of them.

When they met again, this time in secret, they made love in a passion that neither expected. They bathed in a mist of passion so fine that both could see the same rainbow in their heart of hearts. The unexpected happened, as did the expected.

A few weeks later, she called on David and he responded immediately. “I am pregnant with your child, David,” she said. “I will be stoned to death for adultery.”

“Have you not slept with your husband?” he questioned.

“No. He is busy soldiering and will not be bothered.”

“I will not have you stoned, with or without my child,” said King David without thinking. “I will come up with something.”

It was then that Bathsheba realized she was in love with the king. He would not let her die even if the child was not his or her husband’s child. “I love you,” she said abruptly and without forethought.

“I love you, too,” he responded. Again, he thought, this woman commanded the situation. She will make a good queen. How can this be? She is my general’s wife. I have many wives, but he has only one. I cannot take her from him, and I will not. It was then that he thought on how Bathsheba could still be God’s gift to him. Only if the general dies a good death in battle will I wed her. If he does not I shall allow her compensation and protect her from stoning. I will cross that bridge when I come to it.

Very soon, almost too soon, there was a battle afoot and brave Uriah, the general was up front with his men as always. Uriah was a good and loyal general through his last battle. Thus, it came to be that Bathsheba married King David. Their son died young. Nathan the Prophet, told the king his son’s death was partial payment for the king’s adultery, but David asked, “if this is so, why did G-d take my son and not myself?”

“For further punishment,” hailed Nathan the righteous and the wise.

“How do you know this?” commanded King David, “That G-d should speak to you before he would speak to me in private.”

This was a loaded question and Nathan quickly reassessed the situation. “I do not know, my king,’ he responded somberly.

“We shall have another child,” snapped David the King.

Nathan was verbally bruised and dismissed.

It was then David realized the depth of his love for Bathsheba. He realized that G-d may have been talking to him through Nathan because he was a powerful prophet, but David did not know that G-d was not also talking to him the king.

Years later, Bathsheba asked a much older David, “Will our son be king?”

“Yes,” he responded with no hesitation. “I shall do as you wish, Solomon will become king while I am still alive to see it.”

Bathsheba smiled, but knew she had no need to thank David for what his heart had told him to do. From her point of view, from that time long before when she told the king she was pregnant, she had come to realize a truth about love. Love, like true beauty, works from the inside out not the outside in. She was content with the king’s response that Solomon would be king. David was content that she was content.

Solomon saw this joint contentment in his parents and said to himself, ‘true wisdom, like true love, must come from the heart first and the soul must concur. The absence of one from the other will lead but to a shadow of wisdom and not wisdom itself.

That’s Grandma’s story. I had to do some telling in this one because that is how people have heard it. Grandma smiled knowingly and winked in delight.”

When Grandma’s story is done there’s a wake that will follow,

In the river of deep thoughts and its shallow;

The great bend in the river between the slave and the free,

With a marked separation where you may want to be.

A guilt for being born human causes much strife,

And the free human unshackles this slave in their life

By accepting what one is, a piece of humankind --

Filled with imperfect sails for the strong winds in the mind.

Words flow free as small letters by Merlyn’s own hand

Across a crammed flowing fiction carrying earth, floaters and sand.

From Braided Dreams by rho

***

         I know where some of this comes from and it is not the Bible. It is not a memory of lust either. Sincere emotions. Memories, some real some tangled with wishful thinking and other imaginations. I think where I first had this sense was in the fifth or sixth grade when I read Mark Twain and Tom being stuck in the cave with Becky. Wow! That jogs the mind.

         A Google for the thought and a quick online re-read.

** **

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

Mark Twain

A Selection from Chapter 31

A frightened look in Becky's face brought Tom to his senses and he saw that he had made a blunder. Becky was not to have gone home that night! The children became silent and thoughtful. In a moment a new burst of grief from Becky showed Tom that the thing in his mind had struck hers also— that the Sabbath morning might be half spent before Mrs. Thatcher discovered that Becky was not at Mrs. Harper's.

The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of candle and watched it melt slowly and pitilessly away; saw the half inch of wick stand alone at last; saw the feeble flame rise and fall, climb the thin column of smoke, linger at its top a moment, and then— the horror of utter darkness reigned!

How long afterward it was that Becky came to a slow consciousness that she was crying in Tom's arms, neither could tell. All that they knew was, that after what seemed a mighty stretch of time, both awoke out of a dead stupor of sleep and resumed their miseries once more.

         Tom said it might be Sunday, now— maybe Monday. He tried to get Becky to talk, but her sorrows were too oppressive, all her hopes were gone. Tom said that they must have been missed long ago, and no doubt the search was going on. He would shout and maybe some one would come. He tried it; but in the darkness the distant echoes sounded so hideously that he tried it no more.


From: The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain

***

         That was the place I stopped to think out the situation. Then I thought of the two girls I would have liked to have been stuck in the cave with. I wouldn’t know what to do, just as Tom didn’t know. Love was complicated already and I had no idea what love was. I still don’t know what love is, but I don’t think love is the be all and end all of human matters. It is an important part, but the whole of humanity is greater than the emotion of love. I didn’t use to think this but somewhere along the line I changed my mind. In this sense I am not the romantic I once was back in my younger days.

         The point here, boy, is that you have not lost how it was being in the fifth or sixth grade being absorbed in Tom Sawyer. Here you are sixty-nine years old and you can remember such a moment in your life. Allow the same for Arthur and Merlyn even though they are long gone from this world of the living. And, maybe they never were, perhaps both were fiction from the beginning. What difference does that make in your heart, boy? You tell me. Post. - Amorella

Note - something is rotten /

         Mid-afternoon. Carol has been cleaning closets for Vietnam Vets who will be around tomorrow to collect. She found lots of slightly used but usable goods and kitchen equipment like a very nice coffee maker that we only used (sometimes) when company or family comes.

         You watched ‘Grimm’ one of your favorites to take it off the DVR. Otherwise, your morning was spent mostly sleeping as you have been out of sorts the last couple of days. That and you are feeling really self-conscious about the blogs.

         I am. I don’t seem to care about writing, and it bothers me because it is one of the few things that give me dimension in life.

         That is an odd way to put it, boy. – Amorella        

         It is odd because a writing is two dimensional in its nature.  I cannot work on two blogs at once. My mind just doesn’t work that way. I am ready to scrap “Amorella, Diplomat and Me”. When I think about Arthur and Merlyn I cannot help but think about Bob and me and I find myself saddened by his loss. This is not an excuse. Perhaps I am more concerned about losing my sense of secret passion, maybe it is nothing but passion for myself. That sounds horrible and arrogant and self-centered. I think about the Sartre quote to Camus Richard D. sent me: “You are free to think what you like.” It is true as anything anyone ever wrote but the limitations, it seems to me, are on imagination alone. If it cannot be imagined then it cannot be thought. Somehow I find this very depressing – a reminder of our limits as a species. Alas, as I see this on the screen I think it has more to do with self-pride, my own and for our species. Not a good sign when humility can easily defeat this sense of pride.

         Not bad, orndorff. You solved this bit of idle/idol melancholy on your own. – Amorella.

         Something is rotten within my own state.

         The Bard’s play at humor returns. Post and relax, old man. Later. - Amorella
         Then I am not done with the writing and the blog?
         Not unless you want to be, boy. - Amorella

Notes - the species sometimes makes me tired

         I am thinking about our present politics and how argument appears to evoke at least one of the traditional seven deadly sins (pride, avarice, envy, wrath, lust, gluttony and sloth) and one or more of the following logical fallacies: over-generalization, thin-wedge, name calling, cause & effect, false analogy, appeal to authority, statistics misused, appeal to the crowd, circular argument, self-evident truth, black or white, and guilt by association. – As the author Kurt Vonnegut proclaims in a slightly different context in one of my favorite books, Slaughterhouse-Five, “So it goes.”

         Checking Wikipedia I see that now there are seven holy virtues. This is I did not know.

** **

Each of the seven deadly sins now also has an opposite among corresponding seven holy virtues (sometimes also referred to as the contrary virtues). In parallel order to the sins they oppose, the seven holy virtues are humility, charity, kindness, patience, chastity, temperance, and diligence.

Wikipedia

** **

         I like the concept as it brings an order to the universe of metaphysics. Sadly, I wonder why it is we crave such order? Is it for knowledge or a supposedly understanding? In either case it appears to be connected to our basic moral sense of fairness and/or justice. If such a perceived moral sense is innate, what does this say about our species? I swing down to Golding’s Lord of the Flies and across to Slaughterhouse Five. What a themed pendulum with a return to Lord of the Flies. So, is the gear work of this biological/species ‘clock’ forever to move our face in an existential mode? A four-faced clock tower with no exit. It is no wonder the species invented hope, it had/has no choice but to do so. There is a humor in this, a long shadowed lingering humor, but humor nonetheless. It can’t stay for long in consciousness though timeless here it sits with a slight and clever grin.

         You are the very sunshine beyond the clouds today, boy. Such an enlightenment. - Amorella


          I hope a good night's sleep will help. 


          Post. - Amorella

Notes - says you

         The new countertops were attached yesterday and the water was hooked up today. The only matter left is adding the limestone squares to be added to the walls as backsplash.         

         We like the granite slab on the desktop and Carol is fixing the space for more efficient use. It is fun to see her working on the project. And, it will be fun redecorating/upgrading the kitchen decor with objects we have had stored in the closets for twenty or more years. I spent more of the day reading the Steve Jobs bio. I enjoy the easy writing style and reading Walter Isaacson’s Chapter Sixteen on the Gates’ and Jobs’ personalities – great contrasting descriptions. And it is fun to read the relationship between Jobs and Sculley. I am glad Jobs lived long enough to see his earlier 1980’s vision for the computer finally come to pass. He did change the world, a very rare feat indeed, especially through vision, drive and invention instead of through politics and acts of war.

         You are thinking the Steve Jobs would have made a very good marsupial-humanoid in the books but that is not the case. The Bill Gates personality would better fit that bill. – Amorella

         How would that combination of personalities have worked on ThreePlanets?

         Something for you to consider for later in book six. – Amorella

         I have nothing else to say; drawing a blank.

         Time to post then. – Amorella

         Normally consciousness has a gravity to it, a flow towards or away from something, but other times I just seem to be floating within a complete lack of immediate environment.

         Says you. Very funny, orndorff. What a humor. Time for bed, boy. - Amorella


        It was a statement not a joke, Amorella.

Notes - not before / continuation of sc 5, ch 8

         Today is Carol’s birthday; the skies are blue and the sun is shining. – Six hours later, mid-afternoon. The sun stopped shining five hours and fifty-five minutes ago. It is warm though.

         You received a call from Wayne early on and tomorrow they are taking out the countertops and putting in the granite. So, you have had a busy day cleaning out the countertops as well as the kitchen and desk drawers so the men can do their work. You had a late lunch at Panera/Chipotle and a Graeter’s child’s scoop in a cup for dessert. Presently you are at Kroger’s on Tylersville – the regular routine. Alta’s best turkey soup for tomorrow as there will be no hook up for Kitchen water.

         I have been reading on in Steve Job’s bio but am ready to work away on scene five. I have no idea how or when we are transitioning back to the Greek counterparts but I’m sure there will be civilized way to do so.

         It would be interesting to see a biography on everyone alive. The semi-private life, friends and colleagues who have influenced, the interest (passions) as well as contributions. I think of all my friends who I am close enough to for envisioning such a biography – they would all be an interesting read to see how their life has moved along with their ages. Everybody is who they are.

         Richard, that is the purpose of the Grandma’s stories, biographical vignettes – a remembrance the person had once dead. – Amorella

         Oh. I didn’t think about that. Nobody will ever notice that stuff, Amorella. I didn’t even think about it myself. I like to think of writing as an art form – and it is for some; but for me it’s a hodgepodge – a really serendipitous hodgepodge for binding. Am I trying to be secretly clever? I hope not because if so I am not doing well at it. Besides, cleverness takes forethought and direction.

         Don’t concern yourself, boy. The forethought on the books and blog are mine, not yours. If you eventually complete book six you will sense the completeness of the Merlyn’s Mind series, not before. – Post. Amorella

         Nearing the usual suppertime culminating with the national news, usually on NBC and you have found additional images from Wales, Scotland and Ireland to use as descriptive backdrops to Avalon.

***

Early continuation of scene five:

         Arthur sighed, still wondering about Guinevere when he noticed a small leaf down to the right of the slight waterfall begin to flutter as if it were waving to Arthur’s own illusion of life. He focused sure that at home on Earth he would have spied a small insect or two causing the commotion. The thought charged an instant reminder of where he was and why. He smiled to himself thinking, ‘when I was alive it was the same, I was king but when alone I had my doubts any of it was really real – an illusion by a great magician, by God himself.

         “Hello, my young friend,” said a familiar though hesitant masculine voice from the flat stone above the foliage within a dead hand’s distance of the now arrhythmic leaf.

***

         Tomorrow will be busy. Post. - Amorella
 

Notes - death's twin

          Banana and skim milk for breakfast as you are having an early lunch with Mary Lou then, depending on the movie, the three of you will see one.

         We had lunch at Smashburgers and saw the new “Mission Impossible” at the Regal off Mason-Montgomery Road in Deerfield Township. It is the best action movie of all the MI film series. Wonderful fun. The fog has come in and lingers – Mary Lou headed home and Carol is on the phone with her sister Linda. All is normal and well.

         Bedtime. You spent the evening reading on the Steve Jobs biography.

         I have. I think the MacBook Air was Steve’s dream way back in the eighties but he did not know how to articulate it because the technology had not yet arrived to create the machine. The MBA is a piece of art. Form and function at its present best. I would say this even if I did not own one. I own one because I have thought this for a long time.

         Simplicity may be the best design but the Merlyn books and blogs are not designed as an art form. We come into the world messy and many of us leave it the same way, messy. We can create the art though as Steve and thousands and thousands of others have shown. Consciousness – what realms do we have yet to explore?

         All for tonight, boy. Sleep on it, that’s what everyone does from time to time, sleep. Death’s twin as the ancient Greeks used to say. Don’t you agree, orndorff?

         No. I don’t. Time to post a good night though.
 

Notes - setting / dream characteristics / intro to sc 5, ch 8

         The yard is covered with white but it is ice not snow – it will melt later today and thunderstorms tomorrow. So far this winter no use for a snow shovel or snow blower.

         You were up earlier than usual and finished your exercises in short order.

         Looking over those photos last night brought back memories of the trip with Craig and Alta back in 2007. We had a great time. For Carol and myself it was the second visit to Leeds Castle and on to Canterbury and the coast. I don’t think the photo in yesterday’s posting was an actual spring but I’m making it one and taking the iron fence out of course. Leeds is a very idealistic setting worthy of Avalon. At one end of the island though there have to be hills as one would find in Wales, Scotland and Ireland. The Dead need to feel at home in similar geography, or it seems to me they do.

         As HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither is conjured up by the collective mind of the community allowances are made. We can throw some hill country in easily enough but the focal point will be the areas you have photos of – all taken in England. Remember, even The Rebellion is Merlyn’s version not a factual-like history even though you would like that better for authenticity. Dreams have an authenticity all there own and these books are no exception. What makes a dream authentic, orndorff, you tell me. – Amorella

         I checked online. I don’t know if I have ever thought about dream characteristics as such before. Here is a summary of relevant tidbits I found.

         Instead of a summary why don’t I edit the material for what is useful within context of the Merlyn series. – Amorella

         That is fine with me.

         First, I edited the work below from the world of lucid dreaming dot com. Emotion, logic, and remembering the dream are controlled by the grammar in writing them down. The Merlyn dreams are open-minded because I am doing the opening. Thus the characteristics also include an altered state of consciousness similar to that found in traditional hypnosis.

** **

Characteristics of a Dream:

The characteristics of dreams have long fascinated scientists and philosophers. However it was only relatively recently that dreams came under rigorous scientific analysis. One of the most famous dream researchers is the American psychiatrist, J Allan Hobson, who identified five basic characteristics of dreams in 1988:

•                Dreams often feature intense emotions.
Despite the fact that your waking life may be pretty cushy, it's quite normal to have highly evocative dreams featuring extreme emotions. Whether you dream of intense fear (being chased by a crazed axe murderer) or public humiliation (finding yourself naked on stage). Hobson's dream research found that the three most common dream emotions are anxiety, fear and surprise.


•                 

•                Dreams are often disorganized and illogical:
When you dream (non-lucidly) certain parts of your conscious brain are shut off, allowing fantastical thought processes to run wild. The resulting dreams are rife with illogical scenarios and disorganized content, which, upon waking reflection, can make absolutely no sense. J Allan Hobson formally identified that dreams contain "illogical content and organization, in which the unities of time, place and person do not apply, and natural laws are disobeyed".


•                 

•                Dream content is accepted without question:
Our dreaming minds fully accept the bizarre and illogical characteristics of dreams due to our powerful emotional state. According to Hobson, we create strong emotions and perceptions in the dream world that support what we're experiencing, not matter how strange. When dreaming, we do not have the capacity to reflect logically nor overcome emotions.

•                 

•                Dreams often contain bizarre sensory experiences:
In dreams, your mind has to "let go" of the experience of lying asleep in bed and submit to a full range of sensations produced internally by the dream world.

•                 

•                Dreams are often difficult to remember:
REM sleep is characterized by low levels of serotonin and high levels of acetylcholine, making dreams difficult to store in short term memory.

•                 

Dreams - Transparent or Mysterious?

Through his extensive dream research spanning three decades, Hobson emphasizes the role of neurochemicals in the brain and random electrical impulses originating in the brainstem. He does not say that dreams are purely the random firing of neurons - but rather the brain's cobbled attempt at making sense of them.

He later acknowledged the increased activity of the limbic system (a primeval part of the brain which produces emotions) during REM sleep.

Was Sigmund Freud right to suggest that dreams symbolize our repressed fears and desires? Do our dreams contain our darkest secrets just waiting to be unlocked?

Instead, Hobson takes a Jungian approach: dreams reveal far more than they hide - and can actually be highly transparent.

From: www.world-of-lucid-dreaming.com/characteristics-of-dreams.html

** **

         I do not see anything above that would show Merlyn’s dreams are any less authentic than anyone else’s though he is currently as Schrödinger's cat, the theoretical half a cat living, half a cat dead. Merlyn steps beyond in his dreaming, as well the character of Merlyn should.

         Indeed, the books are from Merlyn’s vaulted mind (actually your own which is substantially vaulted through my sense of dimension/reality). Post. - Amorella

        Chores have prevailed today but you have first drafted an introduction for scene five of chapter eight:

Scene Five

         Arthur rested himself on a carved sitting stone focusing on the nearby thin runnel of water flow across a stony flat piece causing four naturally spaced falling streamlets in a half surrounded wood parceled pond of what would pass as pristine water were the whole setting of Avalon constructed of true earthly qualities rather than the spiritual druidic character of those whose minds created and molded this  geographic transcendence. 

***

          It's only a start. 

          Post anyway. Enjoy supper and your DVRed shows. - Amorella

Notes - the old fogey / images of Avalon setting for A & M

         Late afternoon. You are sitting outside the Walmart Superstore on Mason-Montgomery Road in Deerfield Township waiting for Carol to pick up sundry items. Earlier you had blood work done by Phil at Bethesda North Outpatient and you have an appointment with Dr. Goel next Thursday. Also on Thursday Gilkey Windows is sending out a technician to check the leak at the sliding door after Scott confirmed where Tuesday’s leak was yesterday. Mary Lou was coming down tomorrow but tonight you are under a ice storm warning until noon tomorrow.

         Everyone is scurrying around like ants after a sugar lump. I hadn’t thought about my marsupials and their weather on ThreePlanets. I don’t think I ever mentioned the weather – that is not too good. I was more interested in the terrain, so much for realism.

         They were Merlyn’s dreams, boy. You picked up a double whammy of irony this morning on your Facebook page. – Amorella

         Yes, it was funny. I had put up an article about how science shows lectures are not a good learning tool and commented on whether I should apologize to my former students or not, then I said that if they weren’t listening to my lectures they didn’t learn anything, or something to that effect. It was a dark-humored attempt at a joke. I signed it, “Mr. O the old fogey.” I got on this morning and looked over all the positive comments and was somewhat embarrassed because I wanted them to see the subtle irony in life that one sees from time to time if you live long enough. The experience was enough to remind me of how lucky I have been in my life to have had so many kind students over the years. Even one of my comrades at Indian Hill, Jim P., concurred – I had forgotten he sat in on one of my lectures on Beowulf. I enjoyed working with him in those years. We still communicate, mostly on line but not always. I told him later I had been somewhat depressed when I first read a similar article on Laney’s FB page. But, today, I think of all those people who defended the flat earth concept and those who had given their professional lives to the concept that the sun travels around the earth (that is what it looks like). Anyway, my bit of glumness is rather trivial. Like I told Powers, I enjoy a dark sense of humor – I would like to find something funny or ironic in having a noose hung around my neck for a one time only event.

         Showing your true colors, boy – Cyndi Lauper could give you an added wink just before your hanging. – Amorella

         Love it, Amorella, sounds exactly like something my old friend Bob Pringle would look at me directly and say in a droll monotone (in this conversational context) over lunch.

         Post this, buddy boy. - Amorella

        After twenty-one hundred hours and I sit with sorted descriptive images of the location of Arthur and Merlyn on Avalon. I have been staring at an image from Google Earth some 200 meters directly above Stonehenge. I have photos from Salisbury Plain country looking northwest from Stonehenge, I believe towards Wales.

         Carol just headed upstairs and so did you. Take a look at some of your photos of England. You’ll find one. – Amorella

         It took a while but I found twenty photos from England that I will use for descriptive purposes for Avalon. Most are from the grounds of Leeds and Warwickshire Castle grounds.

The Spring of Avalon

         This is where Merlyn first meets Arthur in Chapter Eight.  The surrounding landscape below:

South of the Spring of Avalon

         There, you have your setting. Time for bed. Post, orndorff. - Amorella