Agog

 

I stand in the stone archway, agog at the Tolkeinesque scene before me.

 A Needle sharp spire pierces through an undulating sea, of steeply pitched, close set, rooftops, to prick the very sky above.

Heraldic symbols adorn the masonry of the portal. Project power.

Like an uncoiling python, the city standard of St Malo lazily ripples in the breeze.

The battlements are ready to take on all challengers. Towers heavyset and muscular as prize fighters. 

Within the protecting walls, alleys peacefully wind . . . . 

. . . . .and sinuously climb.

Reveal private spaces. . . .

. . . .whimsical street names. . . .

. . . . intimate corners. . . .

. . . . grand facades. . . .

. . . .and leafy squares.

Beyond the walls, the sea laps, neither friend nor foe. Commanding respect.