He watched the years roll by, from the shining days of the summer glades, to the rainy winds of autumn, then the patched frost of winter, and finally the dewey spring mornings. And not once did it occur to him what was going on in the world beyond the confines of his small pasture. Not the machinations of lords, or the powers of wizards, not even the shifting of reality itself. He knew that things happened in the world, but not how they worked, and he was a happy man.
Paddy Dobson
5th May 2023