Tuesday 30 March 2010

Down the Rabbit-Hole (Eek!)

For the moment, I am beneath ground, exploring the tunnels of a literary labyrinth. I probably won't surface until the end of April/beginning of May.

Monday 8 March 2010

Helen Thomas's Spring

from Under Storm's Wing.

Edward was busy in the room that was to be his study, and Merfyn was asleep in the new bare room upstairs, while I washed up the supper things and arranged the cups and plates on the dresser. The kitchen led out directly into the garden, and when I had done my work I stood in the doorway emptying my heart of disappointment and sadness. The dusk was falling, and the dew-wet earth and all the newly born green of spring filled the air with scent, and as I leaned against the door I took in a deep breath. The sweet freshness of it filled me with joy, and again and again I breathed deeply to experience an elation, as from a magic draught, that I had never felt before. I stooped down and took up a handful of earth and crumbling it let it fall through my fingers. Its harsh touch and its pungent clean smell thrilled me with a new awareness. My eyes were opened to the beauty of the night, to the dark ridge of the downs against the cloudless blue sky, where now stars appeared like pebbles dropped from above. Away to the east was a radiance where soon the moon would rise, and a soft wind as of ushering voices stirred on the hill side. A white owl flew past me silently like a ghost, and like the cry of a ghost sounded its quavering note from the elm tree at the end of the garden. The cherry trees thick with pendulous buds breathed - as it were - softly in sleep. The slender moon rising timidly above the trees laid her spell on the earth, and all was silence and darkness and sleep. On me too she laid her spell. I turned to go to Edward, and met him coming towards me.

'There's a new moon,' he said; 'you must wish.'

'There's nothing left to wish for' I said; 'we are in the country and it is spring.'