# 70 On a Roman Road

With a grinding of cams and gears the bus slowly meandered down country lanes cut very low by cart wheels hundreds of years before. " " The land of fog and mists!" quote Julius Caesar when first his sandelled feet stepped out of the Trireme onto the shores of this our emerald isle..... from wence come you, oh dusty traveller? " He spoke with fruity tones of rum pot richness cultivated in Oxford and Cambridge. Haunted by echoes and spectres of shirt lifters and pillow biters I didnt deign to reply. Later she admonished me: " That vicar was trying so, hard to start a coversation with you, but you wouldn't even reply!" For two decades I tried to make up for that mistake. In all regards I acted with kindness, sensitivity,and empathy. I did unto her as I would have someone do unto myself. I tried not to speak unless it was kind, true, or necessary. With love and affection I tried to illuminate the dusk of our relationship. Finally slowly, oh so slowly, I felt I had atoned for that mistake back in the heavy airs of Avalon, and I stepped out the door knowing that alone in my darkness I had indeed become a Cain in the wilderness.