On a Sunday walk in the Surrey countryside, I came into the village of Pirbright and wandered into the churchyard of St Michael and All Angels. Inside, there is one grave grander than the rest, a grave topped with a large granite monolith.
In August 1868, the Reverend Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, better known by his pen name Lewis Carroll, took a lease on a house called ‘The Chestnuts’ in Guildford, close by the town’s castle. His seven sisters were about to be made homeless.
They are to be seen on all the routes where the dogs bring their human helpers (these examples were found by the River Wey at Guildford). Strange fruits, these turds encased in shiny bags, neatly tied and placed on grass, at the foot of trees, hung from branches and fences.
The visitor information board at the twin chalk ponds of Silent Pool and Sherbourne Pond states: ‘There are many thoughts on how Silent Pool got its name and one of them is the legend of Emma, a woodcutter’s daughter…’
Quite when or why stones became associated with the coronation of monarchs may be impossible to know. According to the eleventh edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, in pre-Christian Europe ‘the king or ruler, upon his election, was raised on a shield, and, standing upon it, was borne on the shoulders of certain of the chief men of the tribe, or nation, round the assembled people. This was called the gyratio, and it was usually performed three times’.
Here (she thinks, in squirrel thoughts) I will have my monument, atop this hard, massive thing created by the ancient humans. And like the ancient humans, I will be displayed in a noble pose, the great matriarch of my squirrel clan.