"Christopher Robin
Had wheezles
And sneezles,
They bundled him
Into
His bed.
They gave him what goes
With a cold in the nose
And some more for a cold
In the head."
A A Milne
I have the beginnings of my first winter cold. Could it be the result of too much star-and-moon gazing out of my single-glazed bedroom window in the early hours of the morning? I did notice the other night, as I drew back the curtain to look in awe at the brightness and beauty before me, that a sheet of exceedingly cold air seemed to be lying in wait. However...
The scene that met my eyes, as I braved the cold air, was quite clearly a stage set:
A smooth lawn, pale grey in the moonlight, lay spread out before me, with two apple trees set diagonally to each other half-way down. The deep shadows of the great pine, that rose up majestically behind, spread over the whole; and everything was so still, and the bright light of the moon, that lay fat and serene amongst the stars, seemed to make everything almost as bright as day, only in a colourless, grey-ish green sort of way, that the entire affect was slightly surreal. It was the sort of night when I could quite easily believe in the reality of Tom's Midnight Garden.
The scene that met my eyes, as I braved the cold air, was quite clearly a stage set:
A smooth lawn, pale grey in the moonlight, lay spread out before me, with two apple trees set diagonally to each other half-way down. The deep shadows of the great pine, that rose up majestically behind, spread over the whole; and everything was so still, and the bright light of the moon, that lay fat and serene amongst the stars, seemed to make everything almost as bright as day, only in a colourless, grey-ish green sort of way, that the entire affect was slightly surreal. It was the sort of night when I could quite easily believe in the reality of Tom's Midnight Garden.
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