"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.
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