Don't blink

Woking sits on the fringe of the M25 and has the mainlines to Southampton and Portsmouth passing through town. It's urban. Yet if I turn my car off a busy road going through Old Woking and park by the churchyard something strange happens. Cutting through the churchyard is like wandering through the old house in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. You follow a path that dips under an oak tree and on the other side is what looks like a vast wilderness of grassland and trees. The grass would be high enough to hide a pride of lions and when a flock of green parakeets flies over head the imagination runs riot. I saw the flank of a deer flashing through the grass and it was gone. Pippa loves the place.

We passed these gravestones on the way to the opening and in the low evening sun I couldn't help thinking they looked a little bit creepy. Someone has rubbed away the patina to expose the cheek of the child angel that's holding a rabbit under one arm and a bird in her hand. The White Witch has been here. There's magic all around. Where is Mr Tumnus when you need him? I didn't blink.

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