Gnomes, magic and porriwiggles…

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

me and the gnomeI don’t know what sparked the memory. It might have something to do with the Elemental symbolism and magic of the upcoming workshop weekend.  And we had been talking about gardens with one of my son’s neighbours… and gardens are a bit of a preoccupation at the moment, what with my almost-bare, iron-hard and fissured patch staring at me balefully, while my son’s garden is being ripped out and made safe for his wheelchair, which is a major undertaking. It was probably looking after my son’s pond that did it… but the mind makes strange connections and somehow I found myself remembering my grandfathers’ gnome.

The gnome sat, eternally fishing, beside a small pond, tucked away in the shade cast by the sycamore trees in Grandad’s garden.  As far as I know, he never caught a thing… except my imagination. He was not a cheery, round-faced, Disneyfied gnome as are…

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