From the prosaic to the elemental, the earthly to the celestial, the parochial to the sublime…
Down in the valley, we enter the demesne of dubious satyrs: transient phantoms and Delphian demigods, bucolic bachelors and vaguely seraphic spinsters – the lot of them immersed in petty imperium, frivolous anathema and despondent fancies. The ties that bind, the resentments that fester…
Merrie Vale is the immaculate maculation; the blot on the lantskip.
