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Around and about are trees and hedges and flowers and whatnot. Best regarded as souls, for care must be taken when addressing them as things, rather than him or her or they. Or so it’s said. It struck me once in here that crowds would sing and scream as though needing release. (Pause.) ‘From where they come?’ I asked, and they answered short and sweet. ‘Look out,’ they said, which I took to be a warning and hid my head. Till it came to me to observe about. Round from front and side and there they were. Every green ear or eye, limb or throat pressed on the glass, giving me warning. For it wasn’t they entreating for release; it was I.