Sam Redlark

image generated by Grok Skim an empty brandy glass (or any drinking vessel of your choosing) across the surface of a pond, or standing body of fresh water. Now raise it up to the light and examine its contents: You will hold in your hand a veritable cornucopia, teeming with microscopic aquatic life – a movable feast fit for a tiny king. Drifting without purpose across this thriving ecosystem will be millions of Longinquusphyta algal spores. Longinquusphyta plays no role in the food chain in the sense that no other species goes out of its way to consume it (because of its small size it is commonly eaten by accident, despite the absence of any tangible nutritional value). It does not contribute or impact upon its environment in any meaningful way. It has no known antibiotic properties and is one of a rare class of living things that pharmaceutical companies regard as being completely and utterly useless to man. “If all the Longinquusphyta died tomorrow, the world would be neither a bette...

image generated by Grok At an estimated of age of 127 years old, the Borough Market Tower – a giant tortoise, who labours under the prosaic Christian name of Andrew, may not be the UK's oldest standing castle, but he is certainly the most enigmatic. Andrew's nickname is derived from his unusually peaked shell, whose pleurals are raised up into bumps resembling the crenelations on the fortified walls of a medieval stronghold. He first lumbers into the footnotes of history on the 4th June, 1920, shouldering his way through crowds of bemused travellers and well-wishers, along one of the platforms at Paddington Railway Station, in London, having apparently disembarked from the morning train from Plymouth. The two young boys riding on the back of the tortoise claim no connection to the animal when challenged by a porter, and make themselves scarce before a constable can be summoned. Astonishingly the tortoise is allowed to leave the station and it is only half a mile later, as it en...

image generated by Grok If, for the sake of festive novelty, you are prepared to endure weary expressions from friends whenever you offer them a mince pie, you could revert to using the old English word: Hafbæmbodig. This superannuated fragment of Anglo-Saxon is derived from the pagan god Haf, who is associated with cycles of birth, decay, death, and rebirth, as they relate to agriculture, the waxing and waning of the moon, and the gradual changing of the seasons. Haf was worshipped in sacred groves across England and in parts of Northern Europe. The first mention of him is in a Roman document called the Inventarium, which has been dated to 51BC and describes the indigenous tribes of Britannia, their culture and religions. The focal point of Haf worship was a mature apple tree. In the summer months this was usually colonised by one or more bee hives, and surrounded by fruit-bearing brambles and briars. Careful excavation around the roots would have unearthed subterranean epiphytes such...