HadrianThe sheep care nothing for history. A wall, however ancient, is either an obstacle, or a shelter from the wind, and hillocks attract, or do not, based on the menu on offer, not the likely underworkings. Still, lambs grow and frolic, and reach the age of testing, when little males gallop to the top and play, like all children, King of the Hill, recognising, if nothing else, strategic advantage unchanged since their forebears bore only hair. The landscape sighs, content. The sheep, caring nothing, pass on.