The God of Transition

Heeding a dream, WynnnAlice sets off from the town that was not too big, not too small, six moons in the planning, six moons in the walking, from town to village, village to town, with only a pair of red flip flops on her feet, and wearing only what she can carry on her back, WynnAlice is a weaver of tales, a collector of tales, a story teller, all to be writ in a great book, Tales of Our Times, a great book of thirteen chapters and thirteen copies, because there are thirteen moons in a year.

WynnnAlice has spent many weeks walking in the countryside, has walked the streets of London, now she heads off out of London, northwards.

As WynnnAlice heads out of London across Hampstead Heath, hints Camden may have its own local currency.

Along the Lea Valley, heading northwards out of London.

Janus, looking to the past and  the future, the God of Transition

Janus, looking to the past and the future, the God of Transition

In Waltham Abbey, the Parish Church, all that remains of the abbey, in the ceiling, Janus, the God of Transition, facing the past and the future, surrounded by signs of the Zodiac.

WynnAlice heads off towards Cambridge.

Music Silver City by Susie Ro & Ayla from the album She and I.

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