It is the cool of the day – a cool breeze whispers in luxuriant palms, a small pink folly on an indigo lake, white clouds amble in a true blue sky. At the lakeside, six women sit with their backs to the water, engaged in some strange and esoteric ritual. Maybe this is just a mother and her daughters, fresh frocks à go-go, all dressed up for a family wedding?
Or is it actually something else?
They laugh engagingly and without reservation. At some shared experience, perhaps? An old joke remembered with overt fondness from the family folklore - often told it improves with the telling. But if this is a wedding, then where is the parson, where are the guests and where is the groom? They laugh and yet, you’ll notice, all colour has drained from their faces.
Their eyes all focussed on something outside of the picture – something behind us and out to our right – something that we cannot see.
What they cannot see is the big green thing that breaks water behind them – that erupts from the lake – both startled and startling – comic and cosmic - is it animus or avatar – or neither, or both? Whichever, whatever – in some strange way,we always knew it was lurking there, beneath the still waters. But what do these women see that we do not? Don’t look behind you. You know that it’s there.