Saturday, 5 September 2015

If I ran away to the circus...

"I do not understand how anyone can live without some small place of enchantment to turn to"
Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings

A surprise invitation. Mentioned long ago in passing, I'd dreamed about going...but we'd moved away and it seemed out of the question...Then it was happening. I packed my rucksack and checked the timetables, synchronised train times and met at the country station and we danced into the wilderness.

Afternoons we listened to writers spin their tales, spied actors  and musicians, ate the tastiest concoctions from Budha Bowls or tiny light felafel or marmite crumpets and drank gallons of afternoon tea, ginger-beer and flower potions.

It was magical...and as the sun subsided, out came the nymphs and fairies and painted soldiers and sailers and sea creatures and the sweetest insect  of a singer lamenting the dead bees...

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