Gradually The Magic Of The Island [corfu]

The Great Ecosystems Are Like Complex Tapestries - A Million Complicated Threads, Interwoven, Make Up The Whole Picture. Nature Can Cope With Small Rents In The Fabric; It Can Even, After A Time, Cope With Major Disasters Like Floods, Fires, And Earthquakes. What Nature Cannot Cope With Is The Steady Undermining Of Its Fabric By The Activities Of Man.

Among The Myrtles The Mantids Moved, Lightly, Carefully, Swaying Slightly, The Quintessence Of Evil. They Were Lank And Green, With Chinless Faces And Monstrous Globular Eyes, Frosty Gold, With An Expression Of Intense, Predatory Madness In Them. The Crooked Arms, With Their Fringes Of Sharp Teeth, Would Be Raised In Mock Supplication To The Insect World, So Humble, So Fervent, Trembling Slightly When A Butterfly Flew Too Close.

They Were Maps That Lived, Maps That One Could Study, Frown Over, And Add To; Maps, In Short, That Really Meant Something.

I Said I 'liked' Being Half-educated; You Were So Much More 'surprised' At Everything When You Were Ignorant.

Tea Would Arrive, The Cakes Squatting On Cushions Of Cream, Toast In A Melting Shawl Of Butter, Cups Agleam And A Faint Wisp Of Steam Rising From The Teapot Shawl.