I remember that day, like it was yesterday. Well it actually may well have been for all I know. I was sitting by the french doors, which were wide open letting the warmth from the sun stream in, when I got to thinking about something I decided to call perspective. Who knows if it was the heat of the day or just me being me, but there I was warm and contented, a smile on my face, drinking in the day.

It goes like this, my perspective thing. You know when you look down the garden and you see the wonderful flowers, tulips orange and white, a forest flame ablaze set against a deep green laurel bush. Those flowers, well, they are just so small. I mean you can see them alright, but you can’t really. The individual petals, the stamen with their pollen trying to tempt the bees and the furry bits on the stems. You can’t see them. But if you get closer then they grow. They get larger the nearer you are. It’s perspective you see. So I wondered just how big they would get if I got close, really close.

So it was a nice afternoon and the perfect time to take a wander to find out. I had eaten my lunch after all, and it was hours until dinner. Yes, a perfect time to take a stroll in the garden and get up close to the flowers. I heaved myself up out of the chair, at my age that in itself is a struggle, and slowly headed off. One tartan slipper in front of the other and then the next one. 

Well it was true. As I ambled slowly across the grass, my hunched shoulders being beaten by the sun and my tartan slippers a little more than shuffling their way, I noticed it. The grass was getting bigger, the flowers were getting bigger. Perspective. It works. I really thought I was onto something, so continue I must. I mean if I can prove this thing it could be a scientific breakthrough, an understanding of things big and small. Were they getting bigger, was I getting smaller – that bit I didn’t know but time would tell.

By now the grass was getting taller and was up to my ankles. The flowers were getting larger too and I hadn’t got very far. This was intriguing me. How tall will this stuff get? Individual blades of grass were now clearly visible through my old tired eyes, was it the size or the cataract operation? It mattered not, I could see them as tall as my calves and just below my knees.

One would have thought, wouldn’t one, that something so easy to discover, just staring at you in the face would be common knowledge at least to the scientists. Was it being suppressed by the government to be used against the enemy should war break out? Surely not, by approaching the enemy they would be massive giants of men. Maybe we should wait and let them come to us so we would be the giants. But is that how it worked, the person travelling stayed the same and everything else grew or shrank depending upon the direction of travel towards or away from? Now I was really onto something. I would be up for a world prize like them that discovered the penicillin- you know that husband and wife team a while back. Yes I would be up for that prize.

I had just about reached to edge of the grass now, and it was chest high. Quite spiky this tall grass when you get down into it. Over in the tulips a summer breeze must have caught them because they were waving left and right in unison. It felt like they were calling me over, wanting a close up of my slippers no doubt. I stepped gingerly from the grass and onto the soil. It wasn’t level anymore, more like a ploughed field only not so well done, no neat rows just ups and downs with bits of stone that really looked to me like boulders. I looked behind me and over the top of the grass I could just make out a dolls house roof. I was the double of the house. I wonder where that came from?

As I neared the tulips something weird happened. All of a sudden. Near frit me to death it did. All of a sudden, and I kid you not, a head popped up, right from inside the tulip. She was lovely. Blonde shoulder length hair, pale skin, big bright eyes, full lips that had such a smile you would swear the sun shone straight out of it. And she had these wings translucent, shimmering gossamer wings, tucked right in behind her shoulder blades, just like your child in the nativity playing Gabriel. She looked down at me and winked at me. Well, I was pure speechless. My mouth dropped so far it might have hit my chest. All I could do was look. Then blow me down another one appeared, just as beautiful with brown hair and hazel eyes.

Then a rustle from the laurel bush and the two ladies shot back down. A larger one appeared from the bush, but was a bit mean looking, pointy sharp teeth and dragged through a hedge backwards hair.  She pointed at my slippers with gnarled fingers and dirty nails. Last thing I know was a voice, “Len, those slippers of yours will be getting very dirty on that soil.” Two big arms took me from behind and lifted me away, “And you will crush those lovely tulips if you fall. Let’s get you back inside and in your chair. Dear oh dear, he’s away with the fairies again.”

And that’s how I discovered perspective!