This week I received another postcard from my brother Basil.
What? I never told you he was away? Oh, how remiss of me. Basil was deployed back in April. I’m not sure if ‘deployed’ is the correct word exactly, you see he chose to leave saying that he missed the structure and discipline of military life and accused Carrie and I of being feeble, lily-livered hippies.
He is travelling the globe, instructing new recruits and generally making a nuisance of himself. In any case, he has routinely kept in touch and sends his postcards via our reliable Brown Pigeon mailing service.
Dear Bergamot,
You’ll find me here in ye ‘ole England. Half a world away from yourself and that mangy cat. I’ve been instructing some of the recruits at the Barracks on the finer points of covert reconnaissance. Truly, they haven’t a clue.
I thought it best before I leave these shores to do a spot of sightseeing. A lanky specimen at a roadside stall encouraged me to visit this rocky outcropping. They call it ‘Stonehenge’. I’m convinced however that the scribe must have misspelled it, for this landmark is clearly no more than a ‘Stone Hedge’. Don’t misunderstand me little brother, though I may not be as ‘delicate’ as you, I do possess some aesthetic awareness and I can clearly see the allure of such a structure. For instance, it requires no watering and little to no pruning, though I must say it hasn’t really filled in over time. If their objective was to construct a privacy barrier, they’ve failed miserably, coverage is negligible.
The plaque here states that many of the aforementioned slabs are ‘bluestone’. They don’t appear particularly sad to me, or maybe they just hide it well. Stoney-faced perhaps, would be a more adequate description. Studies on the benefits of exercise and mental heath have been exhaustive (pardon the pun), and seeing as these behemoths haven’t moved in nearly 5000 years, well, need I say more?
Sincerely,
Basil
