fosse

Although this is not the biggest of the Icelandic “fosses”, the magic of the place was palpable.

Beyond it was a deep fosse lost in soft shadow, but the grass upon its brink was green, as if it glowed still in memory of the sun that had gone.

Heaving dirt from a pit, I would hear on another man’s breath some song half-sung in time to his swing; the engineers called their instructions, wending their way through our deep, loamy fosses.

Huge heaps of the ruined walls, some of them tons in weight, have been tumbled into the deep fosse that surrounds the castle, but they are still almost as solid as rocks.

A surly arquebusier with a steel cap on his head, his gun upon his shoulder, and the rest thereof in his hand, was the first person that he encountered at the bridge over the fosse.