Walls have ears......

.... and they were made with hands!

I was in Ely last evening, meeting some photography friends; Marianne was meeting her knitty friends, I came across this wall. Quite honestly, it fascinated me - completely.

I started to think of phrases such as 'walls have ears' and got to thinking "this wall could tell a story or two". I've no idea really how old it is but I reckon around 150 years. That's a long time for overheard stories. Then my mind ran riot - as is its wont!

A bricklayer put this up, somebody mixed the mortar, somebody shaped the bricks, baked them, loaded them, transported them. That's a only a few people really but, they are all lives; people with their own stories to tell, their families. More people. All of whom we shall probably never know. I became transfixed within my own thoughts. I really had to make a conscious effort to stop meditating on these somewhat inconsequential things. How can somebody's life be inconsequential?

The human mind. Did I ever mention my thoughts about bicycle wheel spokes? How many are there in the world? Each wheel has around 36 of them........ shhhhh! ... It's imperative I stop!