Waking dream

I have a tendency to these; this year there have been two in specifically the same kind of landscape; England but a sort of brown marshy England, all long reeds and birds. This time it was more frosty, ice spreading across water. A very lonely place, no cars, no pylons, nothing but an old road over a bridge.

Someone said, 'If you are a servant of beauty you cannot be a servant of the people,' or something like that. I understood the sentiment to some extent. The place had geese and swans, and the loveliness was tied up with the desolation of it. I wasn't even sure I was in England, though everything felt like it. Then I saw a horse and trap pass by. When it was gone, there was utmost silence again, broken only by the sounds of geese squabbling on the river.

I found one of the old village crosses marking the fallen of WWI, but when I tried to read it, I could only make out the number 26. Of course that has nothing to do with anything.

Maybe this muddle in my brain comes from larians telling me that apparently we are in for a hard winter. Pundits though, what do they know? They told us we were in for a hot summer!

Hysteria

Seriously. The right wing press appears to have completely lost its collective mind.

I get how everyone and anyone can get carried away in a moment of intense stress, truly. But this stuff is just, how does one explain it? Unreal. He's into homeopathy, he's vegetarian, he's elected a vegan, he hasn't given the right jobs to women, he's told the same joke twice, the Labour MPs were silent in greeting him, he rides a Chairman Mao style bicycle, he stole veterans' sandwiches, he's got to kneel before the queen and kiss her hand (No, no, he's got to, he's got to! Don't you understand?) he's teetotal, no-one knows what he wants, civil war is upon us, he's doomed, the Labour party's doomed, we're all doomed... Still. At least it's nice to see the PM taking it well.