The first time I saw Isobel it was raining and I had been walking for a good few miles through the North Downs. I saw a small, appealing clearing in amongst some beech trees in Bagden Wood, so I left the path and sat on a stump in the middle of the clearing. The canopy of the beech trees sheltered me from the rain, so I was able to settle down and stare off into the half-focused distance. I felt comfortable there, despite the rain; I was quiet and content. At first I thought it was the clearing itself which called to me, and it was in a way. There was a veil which hovered behind the colours of the green and yellowing leaves above me, the carpet of auburn beech nuts and old leaves below me, and the glistening blackness of the trees’ bark encircling me. I could feel parts
I have been reliably informed that this site is called the Launch Pad. The moss in the foreground serves as a kind of deep-pile-shag-rug-in-waiting, and the light green, clam-shaped pedal-keys which overlook the river are where the action happens. If you want to spectate, the Launch Pad’s location is on the little river as you approach Frensham Great Pond from the west. You can’t miss it, such is the shimmering delight of the residual fairy and pixie dust which covers the area. It’s called the Launch Pad because, every full moon, it’s the site of a great inter-species diving and dance competition. As it was dreamed up by fairies, anyone can join, as the fairies will shrink you down to the appropriate size. When I went, a trio of frogs did an outstanding tap routine and then leapt into the air, jumping from back to back, somersaulting, before enacting the most
People have generally heard of the Loch Ness monster, but have you ever seen it? Unlikely. I once sat at the shores of the loch for ages, willing old Nessie to surface – not a thing, nowt, nothing. In contrast, very few people have heard of the legend of Stick Ness, which is a shame as there are in fact a Greater and a Lesser Stick Ness, both of whom are open to discovery. Greater and Lesser Stick Ness are found in a particularly lovely corner of Kent, on the North Downs Way between Wye and Folkestone. I won’t bother giving you the precise OS grid reference, as Stick Nesses often migrate to other places. However, they assured me that they don’t stray far from that particular stretch of the North Downs Way, as it is one of the most loveliest in Kent. For instance, the views over Postling from this
This is Pigment 532, or Sun Ra Yellow, the characteristic colour of Thelemic painting philosophy. It is the colour of the sun when seen through a blanket of ayahuasca mixed with cannabis tea and a shot of absinthe. It is principally found on a railway bridge in Harbourland, Kent, just off the North Downs Way, but can also be found in smaller quantities in similar locations throughout the island. Pigment 532 disguises itself as a lichen, but those of us who have read Alistair Crowley’s Book of Colour Law will recognise the characteristic striation of the external ring of the yellow bloom. Due to the power, potency, and rarity of Pigment 532, it is not permitted for any one person to take more than 5 scrapes (equal to 1 gram) of the pigment at any time. I did not take any as I am crap at painting, but if you were
This hub of activity is called the Crack of the Beech. It’s an on-tree marketplace of ideas where the insects of Charing go to plan for all the futures they can imagine. If you try to imagine one of those futures, that will make one more they have to plan for, so try to make it an interesting, insect-friendly one, okay? Anyway, the Crack of the Beech. To be honest, I was quite surprised by how busy it was, which shows the kinds of prejudices I have about insect life. I moved that stick because why not? I was just a stick! (My apologies to Stick Nation.) Well, why not is because it was actually a ceiling under which a highly important insect meeting was occurring. That big fat beige louse is a security guard called Tom; if you look closely, you can see he’s shaking a tiny little fist at me.