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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 8, Number 1, March 2014


Robert Davey
Dereham, Norfolk, United Kingdom


We climb down the steps, out of the heavy heat, into the half light of the cavern. It is more or less spherical, about 500 feet across. At the very top, a jagged ten foot hole frames the dazzling sky with grass and ferns. Almost directly below, a bright patch of turquoise water blooms in a shaft of sunlight. The rest of the lake is twilit navy blue, receding to the cavern's edge. Swallows flit between the stalactites and roots that hang from the roof.

Swimmers congregate on a wooden platform by the water's edge. Some sit dangling their legs in the cool water. Others slip straight in, swimming to the glowing water below the opening, where they flare like moths.

I dive in, momentarily cold. Catfish glide past. There is no sign of the bottom. I surface and swim towards the dazzling centre. Once in the spotlight, the rest of the cavern is lost in shadows: just me and a couple of swimmers, steam rising gently from us.

Overhead an incandescent mote falls slowly through the light. Touching the water it becomes a feather.

through the elements



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