There are lots of kooky tellybox shows which say that aliens built our wonders like the pyramids and Stonehenge and whatnot. To be honest, I think they are probably right because this pod fell from the sky a very long time ago, and once contained millions and millions of books and their Reader. The Reader who lived and traveled in the pod came from a star system full of light and stories. Her planet had fourteen suns, although they were smaller than our own. The suns were different colours and traced patterns across the sky so that the whole day was kind of like a rainbow. Not too bright though, due to their smaller size, and the fact that they were pastel coloured. As beautiful as the light show sky was, the Reader sometimes found it annoying, as not all of the colours were the best to read by. So one
I found this absolute beauty when I was walking the North Downs Way near Etchinghill in Kent. It broke into my peripheral vision in the distance to the right of my path. At first, it seemed like a ghostly apparition, then as if someone had poured paint on a tree. It was only upon closer inspection that I found it to be this absolutely gorgeous, alive and undamaged, wholly natural pink and green. Without meaning any disrespect to any other tree I have seen (especially Harry, Isobel, the Dandag Sisters, Richard, and the yews), it was quite simply the most beautiful tree I have ever encountered. As I contemplated its beauty, I came to learn that this was the first time a tree had ever trusted me enough to show me its true colours. As I was to subsequently learn, trees are like flowers and come in a variety of colours;
This guy might look friendly, but I can assure you it’s not. To be honest, I struggle to even look upon it, such is the fear it instills in me, but look I must. It is imperative that I muster the courage for, without my gaze, I cannot divine its story. And I know from my scalp down to my toes that I must protect you with my warnings. This guy, its name… its name is The Brutaliser. It thinks it’s doing the right thing, hence the seemingly innocuous smile on its face, but I assure you it’s not. It’s gone way over the top and has lost all sense of perspective. The Brutaliser is eternal. When it finds itself a victim, it kind of peels a layer off of itself and then goes on to torment that victim for as long as it sees fit. The more you react, the
Once upon a time, there were feathers dangling like this everywhere. They were suspended at different levels, so you’d never know where on your body you might get tickled. Some people were so sensitive to it, that they spent their lives crawling on their bellies. Those people eventually evolved into snakes and other low lying reptiles. Back then, the species that didn’t have fur used to map all their journeys to maximise feather tickling. They’d often develop elaborate dances and take the extra long way, just to pass by their favourite feather or two. Things were better for people then, because capitalism didn’t exist, and no one lived or worked in a cubicle. People just twisted and turned through forests of feathers before getting on with whatever it was that needed doing. People twirled much more back then. They would stick their arms out wide, tip their heads back, and turn.
These are called tree crisps and are a very rare find indeed. In fact, they’re so rare that I had to consult my Woodland Trust app to even know what they are. According to the app, tree crisps (or arbores calamistratus to use their proper name) generally taste of salt and vinegar. However, there are some varieties growing in the West Country which taste like prawn cocktail, and in extremely rare occasions in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, you may find tomato ketchup flavoured ones. I don’t know about that though, it sounds a bit far fetched to me, but then again, so does deep frying a pizza. The reason tree crisps are so rare is because they only appear to hungry travellers who habitually kiss trees. I wasn’t actually hungry as it goes: the tree mistook my fannying about taking random photos of Serious Pig rosemary cheese balls as a