Wednesday, 3 February 2010


A friend once said to me, "You must have some kind muse following you around because you always seem to come across these astonishing things," - like sunsets and icicle trees. I was going to tell him No. I was all ready to go back to him and say, "Nah, I just get lucky, that's all."
And I was thinking about this as I walked through the dark to pick up my sister. But then, Oh. A sight. A glimpse into another world.

A garden to my right, with ragged grass and a shallow pond. A wire fence at the back that leaned crazily away, supported by bushes. A gap in the bushes. And beyond...
Somehow the ground after that fence dipped into what appeared to be a gaping hole, and on the other side of that chasm I saw a scene that was unreal enough to be fairy tale.
Blue-green grass. Crooked arms of crooked trees. A strange sea-like light that cause everything to look aquatic and nominal. Light caught in burning balls in the fingers of the trees. Everything glitters.
Incredible. I stop and stare. My instinct is to walk forward into the garden and towards this gateway into a different dimension, but then I step sideways and the magic is gone. A dark field with tired trees; yellow street lamps, their poles hidden in the tree trunks, casting hard shadows on the cold ground.
When I pass it the second time, going the other way, I slow down as I come to the opening and look there it is again. I stop my sister and hold her in front of me and point out the breathtaking strangeness and beauty. I describe to her what she's supposed to see and she squints and peers and then agrees. It does look odd, doesn't it?
And move on.

Well, now. I don't know about a muse. And I'm not so sure about lucky, any more. Maybe I just notice things more than other people, that's all. Or maybe someone's put a filter over my eyes that makes me see... Strangeness. Glitter. Beauty.

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