Next day, a sultry, steamy day, we went to Lyme Park in search of Mr Darcy and the pool where he whipped off his shirt. We second-guessed the ride he had taken home to Pemberley where he was startled to meet Elizabeth Bennett crossing his lawns. He had day-dreamed her into reality!
Thanks to Rob Petley Jones for identifying the sawfly larva munching on alder.
I caught myself in nature writing persona, in my dreams. It's happened before and often, only I'm rarely so aware of the transition from dream to reality and of reaching out to hold onto the words, the image I plan to work with- this image which does not exist because it is made of memory.