The White Hart is a noble creature which is nonetheless doomed before it starts its run because clever people have already put a chain round its neck and have organized the traps it will inevitably fall in to. This does not prevent the hart from running, time and time again, even though the hunters think they've killed it. The errors the hart makes while running do not make it any less noble; there is a limit to what even the best runner can cope with and it is always outnumbered.
All fans of English and Celtic mythology know that when the old hart dies, a new one is growing in the shade of the forest and that it runs with the hopes and life of the nation on its back. It hasn't broken cover yet. When it does it will have all the distilled experience of the old hart to draw on.
1 comment:
Lovely.
As a tribute to Thatch and her splendidness I am going to predict that there will not be another capable Prime Minister of this country in my life time.
Post a Comment