Tardis in the Garden

I don’t remember that being there this morning.

There was an odd noise a while ago. Asked the police officer about it; she said nothing to worry about. New neighbours passed by, a retired bus driver & his grandson – they hadn’t heard anything.

 

 

A New  doctor dropped by – she does house calls, if there is an emergency, refreshingly old school. Suggested I don’t blink, until she fixed the problem.

 

Just another What if Wednesday.

Curious about the Tardis? Elizabeth has been running the Elliot Lake Exceptional Puppeteers, a Special Needs community theatre group (Link). The Tardis has been used in a number of performances & on the group’s Canada Day parade float. It has finally retired to the garden for the summer.

Atlantean Walls

 

Above its domes the gulfs accumulate.
Far up, the sea-gales blare their bitter screed:
But here the buried waters take no heed—
Deaf, and with welded lips pressed down by weight
Of the upper ocean. Dim, interminate,
In cities over-webbed with somber weed,
Where galleons crumble and the krakens breed,
The slow tide coils through sunken court and gate.

From out the ocean’s phosphor-starry dome,
A ghostly light is dubitably shed
On altars of a goddess garlanded
With blossoms of some weird and hueless vine;
And, wingéd, fleet, through skies beneath the foam,
Like silent birds the sea-things dart and shine.

Atlantis (1912) – Clark Ashton Smith