Escape

It is a long time since I did a crossword (blip has a lot to answer for). A few quiet moments today created space for one. It reminded me why I enjoy them - they have a way of revealing the vertiginous, illogical leaps that are the way we really think, rather than the respectable, logical steps we impose on our thoughts after we have had them

A problem clue: 'Archaic form of local taxation (4)'. "Could be 'toll', I thought, but the crossing words soon ruled that out. Eventually, I was left with this to finish the puzzle: '_C_T'. I could not fit that to any word that was familiar, or even plausible archaic legalese. Then it occurred to me the initial letter could be S. Then, in a flash, I thought "scot" and "maybe 'scot-free' means 'tax-free'". Job done! 

I had never considered the origin of the phrase before and did not even know that is how to spell 'scot'. How strange that the mind can draw an idea out of darkness like that. A bit of research confirms it is one possible origin of 'scot-free'; another is that it means 'injury-free', like "we have scotched the snake but not killed it", in Macbeth

We went to hear a short talk by a doctor friend who volunteered for a spell as a volunteer helping people travelling the 'Balkan route' in Serbia. We were spared the goriest details (though it was clear that they had not been), but aside from endemic scabies and body lice rashes, much of the work is treating wounds and broken bones inflicted by razor wire and border guards. The organisation also collects testimonies from people about their experiences, and our friend was struck by how eager they were to do this, despite it having no practical benefit for them

My mind works much more slowly when faced with this kind of thinking. As so often on similar occasions, I thought of questions I want to ask only on the way home. I wonder what is the spirit of people in this situation. Are they still sustained by the hope of a better tomorrow? Are they resigned to whatever happens to them, feeling they have no choice or agency (they are, after all, in the hands of people-smugglers)? Are they full of regret or despair, believing they have made foolish decisions? And how realistic are they about what awaits them, if they ever succeed on their journey? For certain, they will not escape scot-free

I haven't visited the green roof for a couple of weeks. It is a riot of tangled energy, incorporating plants I don't recognise and don't remember sowing. "Perhaps the birds brought them", said Mrs M. No borders for them