This morning we finished reading The Taming of the Shrew and started reading the unabridged version of Dickens's "A Christmas Carol."  But the big news is that I have pulled in students to do the bulk of the blogging.

From Charles Hargrove

It is normally an impossible task for me to fall asleep while riding in a car. However, of the four car rides I have been on, I have fallen asleep on all of them. The ride to Wales took about two and a half hours, but I was awake for 30 minutes of it. I woke up as we were crossing the Severn River into Wales. After criss-crossing around and missing turns in the small town, we finally arrived at Chepstow Castle. At first the castle was not very impressive as the walls were in ruins and only the parts made of rock remained, but as I began to explore the castle more my first impression became more inaccurate. The castle, first built in 1067, was on top of a cliff that dropped over a hundred feet down into the Wye River. The Norman outpost was much larger than I expected, but was not very intact. It was hard to picture what the rooms would have looked like from 1067 until about 1300, when it was last inhabited. However, looking out over the Wye River I realized that the view probably hadn't changed. It remained breathtaking.

From Jackson Monroe

A moment in the hike between Chepstow Castle and Tintern Abbey.

Beyond the barbed wire fence that separated the sheep from those who wanted to touch them lay an open field. A field used for grazing livestock, but no animal ate in my field of view. Just four trees. Those trees sat on top of a hill in the meadow, gently swaying in the breeze. Clouds covered the sun, and a thin layer of mist rose of the grass, making the bottom of the trunks stuck in a summer haze. The sun's rays finally peeked through the clouds, causing the grass to shimmer under the thin fog. Multiple shades of green, started from the darkest shade of green hidden in the umbrage of a tall tree to a golden green a Roman God wears upon his head, cover the field. The trees remain tall amid the mist and shimmering grass. A simple meadow, a beautiful meadow, hidden behind a barbed wire fence. A fence to keep people out instead of sheep in.

From George Williams

After a steep descent down smooth, wet, and loose rocks, John C, Jackson, Dawson, and I stumbled into a town, which seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Towering above the sandwich shops and visitor center was the burned out skeleton of an ancient abbey. The lack of everything except stone made the walls seem endless and the windows larger than life. Where wood and glass once stood, now flowed the breeze. I'm surprised that there's this much still in place. I would have thought Henry VIII would have completely dismantled it instead of leaving it standing as a empty

monument to the Catholic Church.