As summer became midsummer, and the elder blossom outlasted the wild roses and faded in its turn till the only true elderflower scent came from her, and the next full moon had a broader face and shone on cocks of hay in silvery fields, they settled into an unhurried love and strolled from day to day as through a familiar landscape.
– Sylvia Townsend Warner, from “Elphenor and Weasel,” Kingdoms of Elfin (Viking, 1977)



















