“...the trees are talking ravenese to each other. And the trees are no longer leaved but feathered, there is not bracken but fur underneath me. And everything is beating like Drake’s drum, bringing down the children of the Milky Way. The trees are bones now and thinking big thoughts like spasms through me. Some trees are covered in owl feathers some rook and sparrowhawk. Their roots are big, scaled claws. In the early morning I find I have something in me that wasn’t there before. Something is in me like a mineral, or splint of bison bone or a spirit light. It is these words: "Inhabit the time and genesis of your original home.”
Book:Bardskull
