Try as I did over a couple of days, I never quite captured Edinburgh's iconic Walter Scott Monument in Princes Street Garden, which has defined the city almost as much as the castle since it was inaugurated in 1846. Scott died 14 years earlier at the age of 61.
It rises 200 feet into the sky. Only Jose Marti in Havana has a bigger one. Writer's memorial, that is. It's even more phallic. Funny, I expected that the ghost of Ernest Hemingway would have had those bragging rights.
I failed to notice that sculptures of more than 60 characters from Scott's novel populate the monument. Perhaps because I've never read a Scott novel, although I did once glance at a Classic's Illustrated version of Ivanhoe. A trilogy about English life in the Middle Ages? Not my cup of tea.
In my defense, public access to the monument--which includes climbing a staircase to the top--has been closed since the pandemic began.
But I didn't even realize his dog lay next to him. Camera fever is no excuse for that!
No comments:
Post a Comment