Taversoe Tuock is a chambered cairn on the Orkney Islands of Scotland. It is rather unique in its two-storey construction. Each chamber has its own separate entrance passage. Recently, a gap in the upper chamber floor was constructed to allow visitors to access the lower chamber by ladder. Limestone, the cold of five thousand years set into its grains. To its builders I would seem some bizarre deity: the goddess of Northface all-climate apparel and footwear. Did they have this weather back then? The sudden, unexpected inverting of the sky’s pool? They say it rains more here than ever before. Perhaps it was blue skies and sunshine warming their small sun-darkened feet, And this headwind was a light breeze ruffling their Neolithic fur dress and not blowing out the torches that would have brightened this dark cairn, which I am about to climb down into using a ladder (late twentieth century, iron grillwork), unsteady beneath my feet. Imagine: No one alive really knows what happened here. Was it a burial chamber? A place of worship? An underground restroom? The proof walked off with the Vikings And I can hear nothing but the wind above, See nothing in the dark arms of this empty body beyond my small, unintended pool of light.

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