Saturday, October 6, 2007

Mrs Strange

I find myself greatly affect'd by the scribblings of Lady Susanna ________ , whose account of the intercourse between Faerie and England I have at this moment upon my night stand. It is proving to be an enlightening volume and one which I find utterly charming, particularly in its language, which is both archaic and elegant. It is not the sort of book that I should generally chuse as my evening's companion, but I am finding it to be absorbing nontheless. The very conceit that there remain transactions between our land and that of Faerie may be utterly ridiculous to some, but I am surprized that I find the notion tolerably logical given the amount of literature that comes down to us from various sources. That magicians should be called upon to aid and abet HM Government seems to me both sensible and wise, for those in power are in the main incapable of any sort of imagination and foresight, which those with a tolerable amount of magical skill could amply supply using mirrors, incantations &c &c. There seems to be some evidence indeed that England's Rugby team spent many guineas to procure a most satisfactory result against our antipodean cousins, although I detect'd some evidence of the spells waning effect as the end-minutes approach'd.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

On the Death of Trees

Along one of the surburban streets where I regularly walk, there is a garden wherein stood a wonderful pine tree.


Sunday it was there, but this morning it was not. It was a handsome tree, of what variety, I am not sure. Its cones were small and compact, its needles of the deepest green, such that gazing up into its heights was akin to looking into a mysteriously dark cocoon. A pair of wood pigeons nested on the topmost branches. My daughter and I admired this tree, which must have been around fifty years of age judging by the girth of the trunk. The regularity of its branches suggested its supreme suitability for the siting of a tree-house, and we discussed the theoretical possibilities for the construction thereof, and spoke of our desire to have such a tree in our garden. Now alas, it is gone, so totally that I had to look twice to assure myself of its demise, which was revealed by the footprint of its trunk sawn off precisely at ground level. A few pine-needles scattered the verge nearby, evidencing to the tree-surgeons precise butchery.
There was probably a sound reason why the land-owners has this tree removed - the ingress of roots into the house's foundations, the obscuration of light, but I mourn this tree's death. It was wonderful of its type, and I feel sad that it's gone. I feel the dryad's shudder at the touch of the chainsaw.