Category Archives: Oxford Blues
The tide that started flowingall those endless years agohas eddied round and doubled back,has shadowed our diverging tracksand monitored their going. It sidles in and splashes at our feetleaving us very little common groundfor if and when we try to … Continue reading
Said the Junior Dean. What is “It”that we should make the most of it?What have wethat we can justly boast of it? We have inherited our share of wealth;and karma and good sensehave brought us health. Time weighs not on … Continue reading
In the Fellows’ Gardens,past the Deer Park,a willow twists and stretchesout of a brown poollike a giant Nagatrailing garlands of green lace. Along the avenues of Addison’s Walk,among birch and beech,chestnuts stretch out their brancheslike semaphores,and hang their leaves like … Continue reading
Jane Horne’s daughter was deformed in hands and feet. Jane herself showed signs of being senile with her ever-hanging, half-dry smile. In 1727, there were no geriatric wards to treat her,so the neighbours were quite naturally concerned. They said she’d … Continue reading
Products of the Pastare apparent all around us.All of them outlastand eternally surround us. The Past for its own sakeis always out of view,following in the wakeof something always new. Looking for the Past itself,records are all you find;fossil, video, … Continue reading
If there is only One,nothing can be special.If there is Nothing,what then? .