Mind at ease.

I’ve been blissfully oblivious about the recent goings-on in London and while the times we live in are certainly fraught with fear and danger, rest assured that Oxford remains an enchanted kingdom of dreaming spires, safe, if not by distance then at least by frame of mind, from the perils of the big city. While that’s not reassuring in any practical sense, I am comforted by the fact that Turf Tavern (“The Turf”) continues to operate since the 14th century and that yesterday I drank a beer there, or that “The Inklings” (Tolkein, CS Lewis, and friends) met at The Eagle and Child (“The Bird and Baby”) in the first half of the last century and read The Hobbit and The Chronicles of Narnia aloud for the first time there and that yesterday I drank a beer there, and that there is a pub underneath the dining hall of our very own college, and that yesterday I also drank a beer there. The full moon suspended over the spire of All Saints and an evening of clear, mild air were magical. Small comfort, perhaps, but comfort indeed.