In Rosemary Sutcliff's The Eagle of the Ninth, on a windy, rainy evening Marcus asks his old Uncle Aquila why he had not moved away from Britain in his retirement years. Uncle Aquila answers thus:

"I had nothing to take me back. Most of my service years were spent here, though it was in Judaea that my time fell due for parting with the Eagles. What have I to do with the South? A few memories, very few. I was a young man when first I saw the white cliffs of Dubris above the transport galley's prow. Far more memories in the North. If I settled in the South, I should miss the skies. Ever noticed how changeful British skies are? I have made friends here–a few. The only woman I ever cared a denarius for lies buried at Glevum.

"No, I am a very selfish old man, perfectly well content with things as they are. I killed my first boar in Silurian territory; I have sworn the blood brotherhood with a painted tribesman up beyond where Hadrian's Wall stands now; I've got a dog buried at Luguvallium–her name was Margarita; I have loved a girl at Glevum; I have marched the Eagles from end to end of Britain in worse weather than this. Those are things apt to strike a man's roots for him."