Yes, indeed he was an odd young man who disliked beets…Beatrice Wambe and I had been up all day, and I shared with her this story, a memory really of my stepmother, Mrs Gibberflat…He is aquring wisdom, I defended Godfrey. Mrs Gibberflat shook her finger at me, what wisdom can be learned sitting all day by a slough?
Bringing home someone odd, my dear how could you? Godfrey says he has always felt, from the inside looking out. He reckons face down in the grass, he can hear the earth speak low.I have not asked what he keeps to himself so I do not know.
He always seems to be muddy to the shins, that auburn hair a magnet for cockle burrs..
burrs and straw, woolly hat and dreadful tattered remnant of a sweater, knitted before he left home by his Ma.Would you I asked her, wear a fine suit to observe dragon flies? Would he be a better man, less odd with a closet full of suits and ties?
All the places he has been, and all the stories can be seen in his battered old suitcase. All the joy he feels, sleeping quiet by day at the slough is in his face. The slough restores his soul, gives strength to not fear what may come- sitting by the slough he is aqquiring wisdom.