'Walk out across the marsh when the water is out and the twilight falling and the wind leaping through the red boughs of the willow, and the rooks flying homeward through the drifting rain, see the watery shaft of sunlight gleam on the flooded meadows, and the broad foundation of the rainbow spring from the veiled and distant hills - faeryland does not not seem so ridiculous. See the cold dawn break above the empty orchard, the light spill into the valley and glitter in the misty river. Go alone into a wood at night, and see the clear starts like facets of crystal above the indrawn trees; climb some hot hill in full summer, and lie on the close dry grass and small flowers that perfume the open places.... if you still cannot believe in faeryland, at least you will understand how it is that others can'.
(Marjorie Bowen. Quoted in the Three Pears, The Worcester Arts Magazine, No. 2, December 1928)
Spelling as per the day