Julian Stodd's Learning Blog

Corfe Castle © Julian Stodd It’s a long climb on a hot day: up the path, over the drawbridge, into the keep. Around you the ruined walls lean out over the abyss at crazy angles. Maybe twelve feet thick, leaning at thirty or forty degrees, great holes rent in the defences. One whole section has torn free: tumbling down on some historic night, rolling down the hill into the stream below. It’s the size of a minibus. Corfe Castle stands today, ruined, on it’s hill in sleepy Dorset. Bought down not by hordes of besieging soldiers but instead betrayed and lost without a fight, blown up by the victors with barrels of gunpowder. Swept away by changing times, it’s sharp edges softened by age.

Nothing lasts forever: not pyramids, temples or mountains. Not ideas, languages or suns. Things change: fail to change and we get swept away, made redundant…

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