Songs of Innocence and of Experience

Christ Church has the pretty custom of an egg hunt in among the stones of its old graveyard:  a lovely metaphor of resurrection, with its outburst of running children through an iron gate.  Some years it snows.

I go to the river on May Day; of late I've been souling on Halloween.  I do New Year's at the Buttery, for auld lang syne.  I've been to one or two memorable seders (those mashed potato golems in Prague...) and I hope to dine at Christmas with friends.  If I'm in town, I like to see the children gathering life in death.

Nine