I didn’t post as much as I wanted about my visit to Oxford. Possibly because I found it to be so overwhelming.
As I wrote in the prior post, the purpose of my visit to Oxford was to do research for a novel I’m writing, the main character of which grew up in the University town. It’s a paranormal mystery, as is most of my fiction writing, and Oxford’s history is rife with tales of practitioners of the occult sciences.
We in the US consider the White House to be old. Buildings in Oxford date back to the 12th century.
But there is something else, something more sinister.
I believe that places absorb the energies of activities that have taken place there. Perhaps the centuries of intense mental concentration and inquiry have changed Oxford somehow. All I know is that I felt drained on my trip back to the City.
Or maybe it was just jet lag. 🙂