Anne Louise Averyさんのイラストまとめ

Hurray! My Reynard the Fox, copy-edited and proof-read to within an inch of his life, made his jaunty way to the printers today! In Wales, no less, which makes me so very, very happy! 🦊🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

https://t.co/DHNeh1tsL4

Ermine was lying on her somewhat battered récamier staring out across the wind-swept rose garden to the sea. The fierce, clipped words from her rejection were marching without let, tramping through her mind, cruel and fevered and hurting.

Wolf was already tearing open the second letter, as Babcia made a trembly Pine Marten some tea. It's 'bout your pay, he cried. They got it all wrong, they're saying – past five years, they're saying – read it, they owe you thousands – another of them fancy Coutts cheques too.

Reynard the Fox: tawny prince of European animal folklore. Witty, treacherous, charming, an anti-hero for the downtrodden, his tales demonstrated that even the greatest of kings can be tricked and defeated with wit & an understanding of the weaknesses of power. #FolkloreThursday

Mouse's birthday & Old Fox had suggested a soirée dansante in the apple orchard, lit by the delicate paper lanterns he'd bought in Yokohama many moons ago. It was a great success & the laughter & the dancing seemed from another age, before the Great Sickness had befallen them.

Wood smoke & the light was fading over the fields, over the Downs. Babcia was saying good night to Pine Marten, who was fretting. We don't have to worry about all the things Wolf told us, do we? No, dear, said Babcia, we don't have to worry about those sort of things any more.

Wolf’s present was wrapped in Christmas paper depicting hedgehogs skating across a frozen lake & Pine Marten took some time unpicking all the sellotape. Inside, was Wolf's own, worn & precious copy of Crime & Punishment. Pine Marten was lost for words & simply hugged his friend.

Pine Marten woke much earlier than usual & lay for a long time listening to the rain on the thatch. In Ealing, he had been so desperately lonely, that he usually either tried to forget his birthdays or, if he was feeling brave, he would go to the cinema, to a matinée on his own.

Three Children Fishing in a Rock Pool
G Vernon Stokes
ca.1946

Waiting for the return of the Fishing Fleets
Winslow Homer
1881