I recall writing a poem a few years ago about the foothills out in Southeastern Ohio, in the Hocking Hills region, where "lay a field in view of the highway...[that] bid me come like Lorelei to see what lie beyond." There was the small archway in the middle distance that lead to a field beyond, a passageway to which I entered and "tread the threshold once again...to reach the thrice-hid field held back perchance another meadow loomed."
This imagery gave great joy so I was pleased by something similar found in Iris Murdoch over the weekend:
The gap, which the yews were just beginning to roof over with the long feathery boughs to make into an archway, somehow made the tiny garden into a dream place, made it seem longer, as if there must be more beyond, another garden, and another and another beyond that.More Iris Murdoch quotes (from "Bruno's Dream"):
Art cannot but console for what it weeps over.
"Do you believe in Shiva, Parvati?"..."But do you believe in him, in him?"
"Perhaps. Who knows what is belief?"
How hard it was to describe things. How hard it was to see things. He wondered if, since he had completely given up drinking, he had actually been able to see more. Not that he had ever drunk much, but any departure from total sobriety seemed enough to damage his perception. Even yet he was not sober enough, not quiet enough, to take in the marvels that surrounded him.
Gwen was usually tired to the point of collapse. Miles felt guiltily how easy a life he was now leading by contrast...It was just, she reflected, that any man, as soon as you get to know him well turns out to be totally selfish. Danby did exactly what he wanted and never seemed to think that this might not suit Adelaide perfectly.
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