Slumbering, the tale of a tail, the essence of an elemental, in a man.

A tail of feathers, standing in stone, on the coast on the north of the island.

By mother’s grace given life as human, on the coast on the north.
The land of drums, hills sloping to the sea, glacial moraines.
In the sand, and the land above, good fertile fields.
Pict. The land from which we drew our name.

“Alleged site of a battle, the conflict traditionally associated with groups of small cairns which were probably the result of field clearance. The final day of conflict is alleged to have been at Bloody Butts. The date of the supposed battle was in the 11th century and said to have been between Donald Lord of the Isles and the Thane of Buchan.”

The Thane of Buchan being a Norman Lord of William’s of 1066 fame. whose thiefdom, thief as in stolen, grew no further.

Stewart’s Lighthouse was built upon this tail, of stone.
From one fathom above to 16 above doth the light shine.

The light now shining through the heart of the Gryphon arising.

13 shall rise, tempering the skies. A new defense a new recompense.

The crown sinks like a stone into a watery grave.
In a moment as the mother expands.
Lovingly, selectively.

Beacons of Liberty shine throughout our World.
The Grid is Gold Iron, strong and flexible.
We the people are Gold Iron.
Unbreakable, Unyielding
Blood Red Gold
In every heart.