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.
I saw this here toilet in this here field as I was walking the North Downs Way near Harrietsham in Kent. As I paused with amusement at the complete lack of utility of a wild loo with no modesty screen or plumbing, four lads on quad bikes pulled up. ‘Say’, one said, ‘aren’t you the person who writes 10,000 Delights?’ I must say that it was exciting to be recognised so, and it is to them I owe this cautionary tale. Thanks be to Stevie, Ralph, Benson, and Peter. You may be surprised to know that this isn’t a lavatory in the conventional sense. It is located at the far north western corner of an autonomous district called Rodorburg, which is adjacent to Harrietsham. Rodorburg has long since emancipated itself from both local and national government who eye it with suspicion, but have thus far not sought to suppress it, namely
Charlie is a snake charmer and their job is to bring on summer. I know you’re probably looking at the photo and thinking ‘where’s Charlie?’. That’s because you’re used to the idea of it being humans who charm snakes, not snakes who do the charming. Well, let me tell you all those stories are WRONG with a capital W R O N G; a product of humanity’s egocentrism which puts itself at the centre of everything. In real life, snakes charm all manner of things. As I say, Charlie charms summer, and their cousin, Sylvastina, charms the myriad oaks of Puttenham Common to grow in those perfectly rounded shapes. I was really hoping to be able to interview Sylvastina for this story, but it turns out that she’s still sleeping. Charlie is always the first one up as its them who makes it warm enough for the other snakes to get