The Deptford Mice 2: the Crystal Prison
“Fennywolde The sunlight spread across the growing corn and cast deep charcoal shadows under the elm trees. The field was a large one – a mass of green, rippling like the ocean as the wind played over its surface and murmuring with lovers’ whispers as the breeze sighed through it. The corn soaked up the sun, drank its gold and grew tall.
The field was bordered on one side by a deep ditch that fed a pool at the far end, where the hawthorn grew thick and impenetrable. But now the ditch was dry an...d the mud at the bottom was cracked and studded with sharp stones. Along the side grew the tall elms and one solitary yew, dark giants rearing high over the swaying grasses and stretching into the fierce blue.
To the left of the ditch was a meadow. Too small and difficult to plough, the meadow was rich in the glossy show of buttercups and flowering grasses. An enchanted scent hung over the place – a perfect blending of wild perfumes, so strong that you could almost taste them. Beyond the meadow was a great clump of oaks, fully in leaf, like green clouds come to rest on the earth.MoreLess
The field was bordered on one side by a deep ditch that fed a pool at the far end, where the hawthorn grew thick and impenetrable. But now the ditch was dry an...d the mud at the bottom was cracked and studded with sharp stones. Along the side grew the tall elms and one solitary yew, dark giants rearing high over the swaying grasses and stretching into the fierce blue.
To the left of the ditch was a meadow. Too small and difficult to plough, the meadow was rich in the glossy show of buttercups and flowering grasses. An enchanted scent hung over the place – a perfect blending of wild perfumes, so strong that you could almost taste them. Beyond the meadow was a great clump of oaks, fully in leaf, like green clouds come to rest on the earth.MoreLess
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