There are many hidden treasures and lost history, dotted amid bracken and heather and in valleys where no one but wild ponies venture. I found this one, supposedly the tomb of the ancient founder of the city of Swansea, lichened and mellow in Welsh sunshine, with the aid of an OS map and a husband with an unerring sense of direction. I rode past it on horseback a few days later and tipped my hat to that long gone warrior, and smiled at the ephemeral nature of fame. Apart from his name, almost nothing is known of Sweyne, and his tomb, once a fine mound, is nothing but a pile of boulders at the end of the Gower peninsula.
Sic transit gloria mundi.
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I love the painting – did you do that? *impressed face*
I wonder why, given that he gave his name to a city, no-one knows anything about him?
Ali x
Yep, Ali, one of my daubs.
I think that sometimes a name is all that is left. No clue why, but after a thousand or more years, if my name is remembered, I’d be happy.
Just back from some time in hidden parts of Derbyshire, your post is very evocative. Ah, the ephemeral nature of fame – it is the landscape which survives. Hope you are well, Viv xx
Yeah, rock endures!
I’m ticking over, not well but not desperately ill either.
xx
Daub, eh? Damned haunting daub, I’d say. Hope you’ve given a kick-start to his memory, Viv.
Ooo, I like that. I havent a clue where, or what, it is mind you but thats why I like it!
It’s the stones left after the moound was robbed out of a burial mound high among the heather on Rhossili Down on the Gower. I actually rode past it…!