Bygdøy, Oslo, Norvegia
24/08/2010
Uno spaventapasseri di paglia e juta in un campo coltivato, davanti ad una capanna in legno.
Sembra l’inizio di una fiaba. Noir.
“I don’t want to set up a hobgoblin in my own corn-patch, and almost at my own doorstep,” said Mother Rigby to herself, puffing out a whiff of smoke; “I could do it if I pleased, but I’m tired of doing marvellous things, and so I’ll keep within the bounds of every-day business just for variety’s sake. Besides, there is no use in scaring the little children for a mile roundabout, though ‘t is true I’m a witch.”
Feathertop
