As you leave the lawn, just a stone's throw away is the tree, and literally a tree, but not so literally a stone. Imagine the stone if you must. And if you must, throw the imaginary stone at an imaginary man with a shotgun. Stand in the moving shadows of the tree and listen to the sound of leaves rustling on a gentle breeze.

Let the tree's wealth pervade your mental health. The man with the stone was all in your mind. And he didn't have a stone. He had a shotgun and a dog. It was you who had the stone. Always remember to accurately report these incidents to the police. Unless you just imagined it. And yes, you just imagined it. Take a deep breath. Look at the tree, the waves of wind through the fields all around, and through the tree too; its branches and leaves moving in the breeze. Wave back at the tree. There's no man with a gun. It's not even loaded. Sssh, relax and look at the tree.

Nestling noiselessly beneath the rustling of nests, a man clinging to a branch, one eye towards the imaginary man with the gun, towards where he would be if he or the gun were any more than in your mind, or his mind.

Slowly raise eyes, rise head to high leaves reflect in the sun the sun and blue sky. Nature's flitting and twittering creatures re-itering their twittering tw'over and all day long t'woo, while nature's aimy and shooty creatures all day long itching to sh and sssh. Take a deep breath.

A bird rises to the sky and the sky says hello little bird, 'hello sky sky' (that's what the L bird says) and rises and dives, rises again, becoming a dot in the sky sky, goodbye bye, bird bird.

Close your eyes and let your heightened sense of hear transport you to a place in your mind where you're all alone, far away from those people in your mind, a quiet place in the long grass beneath an old tree, a clear blue sky above. Let your hi there sense of hear pick out the sound of a shotgun being reloaded, and suddenly you're transported to the ground, hiding in the long grass. Let your crawling crawl of crawl now; your heightened sense of here and the place to be is there where the little rabbits run and the shoutened state of speech is just a memory fading away from your mind.

The tree has been one of the most popular sights in Mizzenwood ever since Diane Dellagrame, an actress famous for her role in the hospital drama 'Blip... Blip... Blip... Bliiiiiip', visited the tree during her stay in the town. She described the experience as follows: The tree is here... I mean here. I mean there. I'm here so the tree must be h, I mean here. And there's space between here and there. There's a little bunny rabbit in the space between H and T and... I wanted to go to the bunny but I don't want to be the I between H and T. Unless it's the bunny that gets hit and not me. But I don't want to be the one to hit the bunny. Unless there's no one else around.

So Diane may have hit a bunny in our little town. But for legal reasons, she didn't. She's just one of the tourists who've enjoyed their stay in the town, many. People have been visiting and leaving Mizzenwood for literally as long as the day is long, longer in summer, which is when tourists first started arriving on our doorsteps.

You'll love our latest production of 'I am a summer day', starring the blue sky as itself, the long green grass as the ground beneath your feet and your feet as the feet beneath your you, with a man who looks like John Wayne as a man who thinks he is John Wayne.

Walk slowly and slowly inexorably on, and stayly close by the guide. Move slowly when G-he or she moves slowly, and sloooowly when he, ssh stop. Slowly poke with a stick to get going again.

Leave your troubles back in the place you're staying, especially if those troubles are troubles with the place you're staying in, and don't think you can leave those troubles in the place you're staying by leaving without paying. That solves nothing. But leave them behind for an hour or two in the fields around the town. Run with the breeze down a hill down where the long grass grass goes down and very gently down so you won't have to go stop wait step stop on your way back up.

Stay for a week or two in staying places with roofs or out in the wild fresh stay. Sleep beneath the stars and wake up to the sublime natural splendour of a day parked for good in Mizzenwood, lying in the long grass, so long they long long long. A new day is daying and things are beginning to thing and somethings to sing, run-things to chase and someone to run. A new day begins, a blue sky, a ray of new-day light, a vast ocean of blue above, just a short drive ish to the ocean below, but you won't want to leave the town for that.