A sense of place

During the many whistle-stop tours I've taken round Blogland, since I discovered it on Christmas day, I've been delighted with the way contributors add little pieces to a huge jig-saw collage. A kaleidoscope of images, whether in words or pictures, coalesce in my mind and the world has painted itself on a different canvas. To each person 'Home' is unique, be it in wide open grasslands, bustling, modern city or exotic oriental setting.

This started me thinking about where I live. What's so special about this spot on the South Coast of England? Eventually I decided it's a sense of history, closely followed by the simple pastoral image of the rolling, switchback hills of the Southdowns, and the neighbouring sparkling waters of the Solent that saw the start of so many Naval escapades, from Henry Vlll onwards. And we mustn't forget the Isle of Wight with its Dinosaur legacy!

At Portchester, there are the remains of a Roman Castle, and not too far off in Fishbourne, a Roman Villa lets us gaze at a tessellated floor exposed by excavations and now displayed in a purpose built museum protecting the site from the elements. In Havant, St Faith's Church goes back to the eleventh century, and you can read all about its history online, if you're interested.
So the whole area is steeped in history, and has echos of it which still resound in our senses - which is why I wrote the following:-

Echoes From The Past

Two ways lead to the seashore.
One's by a street through town
where you hear the racing traffic
rush, honking, up and down.

The other's by a woodland path.
That's the way I like to go,
for Roman Soldiers strode there once,
many years ago.

But one day, in this leaf strewn lane,
I heard a marching sound...
and that's when I began to wish
I was on the road through town!

The slap of leather sandals
kept up a rhythmic beat;
I found my pulses racing,
keeping time with marching feet.

My heart pounded frantically
and I began to run,
as shadows of plumed helmets
were created by the sun.