I see people have been stirring. The young lad has been knocking about around the children's cafe area for a while now, no doubt ready to resume the playful hounding of ourselves which we have enjoyed these past couple of days, but we must keep hidden now at all costs. I will tell the Borg to keep an eye on this one as he seems to have a glint in the brain and no mistake. Yesterday I catch him at the breakfast table, long before anyone else had risen, where he was drawing a sheet which looked to me like a playful map or some such, a pretend world maybe but when I suggested this he said simply, 'nej, det inte en karta'. 'Is it a world?' I asked, 'nej, det inte en varld'. 'Jag vet', I said, sensing the game afoot, 'det är en pad spel idea'? 'Nej, det inte en pad spel idea'.1 Then a voice from the dark kitchen chimes in; 'he likes to draw machines', (the boys mother) 'he's drawing generators'.
Generators?! The little man went on to talk me through his sheet which he had split into four and drawn a design for wind, solar, and wave power capturing devices and a pack of batteries for their storage. Around the desk there were many other such sheets with other such designs some of which I managed to take and save lest they be annihilated in the first tidying round. My interest and amazement in the keen young man, (but four he is) earned me a trek through the forest to the water source to examine its potential for energy generation and tonic though that was we cannot afford such attention today so, with the care of a war time tunneler we must shuffle backwards a few inches. There. Had we made the slightest noise just then he would have appeared at the hatch in seconds and we simply must get this done. Luckily others are beginning to emerge and soon all activity will be taking place in the main house and our bright little borsht will be drawn along with it. But we'll catch up with him soon enough.
Yes this little nugget of hay is a rare sight in Roslagen. In fact it is the first time I have seen the like during the course some five years of watching the harvest. The only time we have seen this sort of small rectangular bale was back in the midlands fields some twenty years back when we took to the roads to escape our landlocked blues. A trip to the Botley Bowl or the Banbury ramps for a day out then a stop at the Harbury travelers to see what potions might be on offer. I distinctly remember marveling at the thousands of bales strung up like this all over the fields, as far as the eye can see and some piled monolithically high for some reason. This one however was part of a small corner field harvest over by the electric house, possibly a rented patch of land? In any case we jumped on it. A single square which we boldly salvoed on in the fashion of summer which we have now completely accepted as the only possible way to proceed at this time of year. That said we were reminded afresh that to work to the gospel of speed while retaining variety and delicateness is a tough ask and would only come with a lot of regular practice. But we had our say and have captured something of its dull, prickly luminosity I fancy. Later that day they were gone.
We have managed another raft of crypto lines for your good assistants to transfer. Please pass on my hearty approval of the bright flashing panic effect, it seems entirely appropriate.
A handshake,
John
1 'no it is n't a map' 'Is it a world?' I asked, 'no, it isn't a world'. 'I know', I said, sensing the game afoot, 'it is a pad game idea'?