"Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again, and then in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked
I cried to dream again."
– Caliban
The Tempest, William Shakespeare
Photo of Campse Ashe, Suffolk, 1903. From English Gardens in the Twentieth Century, by Tim Richardson.
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Twangling...I have discovered my new favorite word!
ReplyDeleteSimply gorgeous, both the words and the photograph. I find the fog creeping over the trees especially heart-tugging, bringing back as it does memories of living in England. "Coming in on little cat feet", as the wise poet said...
ReplyDeleteThose were twangling good compliments! Thank you both.
ReplyDelete