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‘November’ by John Clare
A longer poem than usual, but I love it. It’s worth reading to the end, if you have the time! The landscape sleeps in mist from morn till noon; And, if the sun looks through, tis with a face Beamless and pale and round, as if the moon, When done the journey of her nightly race, Had found him sleeping, and supplied his place. For days the shepherds in the fields may be, Nor mark a patch of sky – blindfold they trace, The plains, that seem without a bush or tree, Whistling aloud by guess, to flocks they cannot see. The timid hare seems half its fears to lose,…
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Purdey’s Hallowe’en hallway horror
From reading about haunted castles and abbeys just recently, it struck me that the stairway is very often the hang-out of choice for ambitious apparitions who want to see some proper hands-on action. I was particularly interested to read a story about Airth Castle near Falkirk, whose phantom dog lurks in a hallway and has a habit of biting people’s ankles. Believe me, I would soon sort him out. A fistful of needle-sharp claws in his nose, and he’d go whimpering off back to his grotto. But the idea of haunting a stairway got me thinking. I love stairs myself, and there’s usually a lot of fun to be had on…
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Meteorite: from a time before the Earth
How old can a rock be? Quite old, is the answer. This one was formed before the Earth itself...
The Hazel Tree
by Jo Woolf
