On Tuesday we ventured into the woods in deepest, darkest Northamptonshire. From the outset there were warning signs, if only we’d recognised them.
“Remember that pink tree” we exclaimed, as we noted disturbances in the space-time continuum
and thinning of the boundaries between worlds.
“Is it safe? What does it mean?” Foolishly, we continued to wander through the forest until suddenly we came upon a clearing and glimpsed something tantalisingly colourful in the distance.
Tipped off by all the warning signs, we approached with caution, circling round the cottage, observing it from a safe distance.
From that safe distance we were able to identify and outwit the defence system.
As we approached, it became obvious that this was a witch’s cottage, a place of evil that didn’t belong in the benign Northamptonshire countryside.
We could feel the evil emanating from the place, so we used the only magic available to us at the time, and fought back with photography.
First we drained all the colour from the witch’s abode.
Finally, armed only with our cameras, we succeeded in returning the cottage to its own place of evil.
And for the first time that day the world looked like a safe and inviting place.
— words by Elizabeth
— photos by Elizabeth and Paul