Quite a long time ago, people were much, much smaller than they are now. This is where our fairy legends come from, only so much time has passed that we’ve forgotten that the little people were actually us. Bigstickasaurus hasn’t forgotten though, he’s still full of the stories from when we were small. He even told me one. In those days, we, the little people, would suspend ourselves from his spikes like ornaments on Christmas trees. Our ancestors would sit there, swinging backwards and forwards, shouting out ideas for a full moon show, practicing under cover of the new. The full moon shows were always spectacular and involved incredible circus feats. After they were finished, the little people would jump off their swings all at the same time, and perform synchronised somersaults as they landed. Then, after a prolonged series of curtsies and bows to a very loud round of applause,
I have to say that I was excited to find this sign! It’s been a long time since I encountered the Numberplate of Destiny, so to find the Sign of Jumbling Fortune was, well, a sign! A sign the universe had another message for me, a sign that my quest was not in vain, a sign that I had eyes for seeing and ears for hearing, a sign that the universe was rewarding my careful, quiet attention with a message. Before I reveal the potent and timely message the Sign of Jumbling Fortune had for me, let me first explain the way it works. As with a great many other naturally magical artefacts, it works best if you are carrying a stick. Thankfully I had picked up three yew sticks on that walk, and was thus able to divine a rather complicated message. However, the Jumbling Sign recognises that three sticks
They say ‘history repeats itself’ and it does, of course. I’ve got a PhD in history, so you can trust that I know what I am talking about. Anyway, this tree is actually a very old tree and it has lived through a time which in some ways resembles the one we have now. Be prepared then reader, for this is a cautionary tale. The reason this tree on Linchmere Common is bendy, is because during its lifetime the sun disappeared. As such, the tree, not having eyeballs to see, just gradually reoriented itself to a second source of power and energy: the molten core of the earth. When the sun came back, the tree turned upwards again to the original, greater source of energy. It’s stayed growing that way for some time now, but I have it on good authority that it may well have to make another turn soon.
This is a portrait of Stick Boy, when he was alive and happy, frolicking and running in the forest. The pines of Holmbury Hill have memorialised him so that he could finally realise his dream of being one of them. Alive, organic, free. Stick Boy came to the forest at some point in the future. He was born in a time when IVF meant placing an AI into the body of a robot. An AI you got made to the have the perfect personality; a robot body which never got hurt or decayed, so long as you oiled it and kept it out of the rain. Stick Boy’s human parents ended up being a sorrow. No matter how perfect Stick Boy was, he still wasn’t good enough to end the arguments which raged between the two adults. No matter how many science projects and paintings he created, he could never be
This is Gilbert & Sons, they are a travelling players group. Unlike other plants, these guys don’t exude oxygen but joy. As you can tell from their happy upright gesturing, they want you to pay attention, because the more attention you pay, the closer you’ll get to joy. Literally and figuratively. Gilbert & Sons are actually what happens to some lifeforms who achieve liberation from suffering. A liberation which, judging by my response to the non-stop electric sander somewhere outside, I’m still a long way off achieving. In this play, Gilbert & Sons are demonstrating the maxim that “all things can be found in miniature”. It is an exhortation to pay attention to the small in order to dwell in the large. As you can see, Gilbert & Sons are trees, the feather moss is playing bracken, and the twig is doing a great job of acting as an ancient, fallen