2 May 1921

2 May 1921

Hotel Beau Site, Clarens-Montreux, Switzerland

My darling Bogey,
I have been walking round and round this letter, treading on my toes & waving my tail and wondering where to settle. There’s too much to say! Also, the least postcard or letter penned in view of these mountains is like presenting ones true account to ones Maker. Perhaps their effect will wear off But at present, Boge . . . one keeps on murmuring that about cats looking at Kings but one feels a very small cat, sneezing, licking one’s paw, making a dab or two at ones tail in the eye of Solemn Immensities. However the peasants don’t mind, so why should I? They are cutting the long brilliant grass; they are wading waist high through the fields with silver stars — their scythes winking — bright in the sun – over their shoulders. A cart drawn by a cow (Im sure it is a cow) drags over a little bridge & the boy driver, lying like a drunken bee in his fresh green bed doesn’t even try to drive. Its a perfect, windless day. Im, as you have gathered, sitting on the balcony outside my room. The sun is wonderfully warm, but the air is just a little too clean not to be chill. The cleanliness of Switzerland! Darling it is frightening. The chastity of my lily-white bed! The waxy-fine floors! The huge bouquet of white lilac, fresh, crisp from the laundry in my little salon! Every daisy in the grass below has a starched frill — the very bird droppings are dazzling.

[To John Middleton Murry in Collected Letters, 7 May.]