“I found myself, one gorgeous summer evening, resting by the side of a broad river, with a glorious horse-chestnut tree towering above me, and dropping its blossoms, milk-white and rosy-red all about me. As I sat, a gush of joy sprang forth in my heart, and over flowed at my eyes. Through my tears, the whole landscape glimmered in such bewildering loveliness, that I felt as if I were entering Fairy Land for the first time, and some loving hand were waiting to cool my head, and a loving word to warm my heart. Roses, wild roses, everywhere! So plentiful were they, they not only perfumed the air, they seemed to dye it a faint rose-hue. The color floated abroad with the scent, and clomb, and spread, until the whole west blushed and glowed with the gathered incense of roses.” – Excerpt From: George MacDonald. “Phantastes.”

Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema, The Roses of Heliogabalus, 1888, Oil on canvas, Private Collection

2 thoughts on “Transported”

  1. Reading “Phantastes” is like entering a painting. Sometimes Romantic and sometimes Surreal. His descriptive passages are just so heavenly. ☁️

    1. It’s beautiful. Thanks!

      I just got “Italian Folktales” yesterday. It’s hefty. 700+ pages b/c I’m going to live to be 120.

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