This is one of the most uncomfortable pieces of reportage I have provided thus far. The fact that I have soldiered on should demonstrate how dedicated I am to being a nature reporter with a very important job to do. For my mind is screaming, my heart is quaking, my skin is crawling, and yet and still, I must be faithful to nature and pass her story on. This rather beautiful knot is the winning entry of an under 12’s competition run by the spiders of Tankersford Common. The competition entails young spiders making their web offerings at dusk, and then overnight, the Ice Elemental comes and chooses the one they like best by making it glitter and glint in the morning sunlight. The young spider responsible for the winning entry this year is called Emily and she is actually a nice one. It is very difficult for me to admit
Flat Adder wasn’t always flat, nor an adder. He had an unfortunate accident in his 32nd month which he has miraculously managed to transform into good fortune. This is why no one argues with him about his claim to adder-hood. There is too much to admire to quibble over such insignificant aspects of his personhood. Being flat allows Flat Adder to see into another dimension which is 42 seconds ahead of ours, but otherwise exactly the same. As a result, a great many people come to visit Flat Adder so that they might know their immediate future. He has to speak really quickly to say the future before it happens, and if anyone knows adders, they’ll know how difficult a feat that is. All snakes are languid in nature and therefore not moved to particularly fast speech. As a result Flat Adder speaks in part-sentences. He’ll get out the first two
As you can see, this rock contains the sunset. Apparently, if you are willing to stand there long enough, it might even become the sunrise. But I’m an impatient sort, so for me, it was only ever the sunset. A nice one though, don’t you agree? I was on a journey from one there to another along the North Downs Way when I found it. After about five minutes of a captivated stare (and the occasional cautious caress), I felt my corporeal existence waning. My body seemed to melt away and then, the next thing I knew, I was on a small boat on that sea, sailing towards that giant black cloud on the horizon. I realised that I was dying, but at the time, I didn’t seem to mind that at all. As I sailed, all manner of strange beasties jumped out of the sea and over the bow of
This elegant sculpture is of King Harold, the legendary Horse King of Selhurst Common. I know it’s a bit far away, but there was a fence in the way, so I couldn’t get any closer. Whilst the landowner is enlightened enough to commemorate empires of horses, they are not enlightened enough to let people get close enough to properly worship the past. If I could have gotten closer, the base on which the horse head is resting would reveal to me an epitaph relating the mighty deeds of King Harold, from a time not too long ago. A time which could have extended to the present, if we human’s hadn’t turned out to be so narcissistic about who we celebrated and raised up in our myths and legends. In the olden days, we shared the mythic space with legendary beasts of which King Harold is a type. Beasts which soared in
What is Monkey looking for? Some say it’s justice, other’s the end times, other’s still his clan. I know though, that it’s actually a 20p piece: a special one he’s carried for more than fifty years. Monkey got the coin in change from a sweet shop when he was a kid. The sweet shop owner was the first human of any size to treat Monkey with dignity and respect, and didn’t even ask Monkey for any ID when he bought his cigarettes. So Monkey fell in love with the sweet shop owner, in his strange monkey-like way, and kept that 20p with him for ever and ever after, amen. Until recently, that is. One day, one sad and sorry day I should say, Monkey was playing with the calves of the cows in the Lammas Lands. He was running and jumping, climbing and rolling, and having a real monkey of a time