A terracotta plant holder in Wales, via England and, ultimately, Italy.
Strictly speaking this is not a stone but a ‘burnt earth’ head.
Based on the top portion of a caryatid figure, a column in the shape of a draped female which supports an entablature on a classical temple.
She looks quite smug, as though she’s chuffed she’s managed to survive ten or more years of British winter frosts.
Stokes Croft, Bristol
Another example of individuality within conformity.
Red brick and uniform shop frontages unite the ensemble.
On the left, a Dutch gable tops off a severely classical façade.
In the centre sits a utilitarian design, probably fronting a workshop or warehouse.
On the right a more Baroque interpretation is also surmounted by a Dutch-inspired pediment with the merest hint of curves.
You might just spot a 20th-century building peeping over the top, but despite being brick-faced for me its height and mass would not class it as a Good Neighbour.
Stone head, Congresbury, Somerset
One of many stone heads on the Refectory, the former vicarage, built in the 15th century.
This is such an individual face it’s tempting to believe this is an actual portrait of someone connected with the village church.
Waterspout, St Davids Cathedral, Pembrokeshire, Wales
Though this could be a Victorian example, the medieval mind was no less scatological than modern schoolkids: the idea of a devil from hell gobbing at you from a height clearly appealed to certain mentalities.
Not mine. Obviously.
A winter’s sunrise | as viewed through Nature’s window. | A painter’s palette.
Seascape, really, more than landscape