by Bridget Webber

Created on: March 26, 2009   Last Updated: March 29, 2009

The story that I am about to tell you is one which relates to the dirt from our garden, which we were rich with in quantity, and the dirt which is spread in the form of rumours and which does no good in the end.

My tale of dirt, gardening and morals begins when my husband and I moved to a tiny island, away from the hustle and bustle of modern day life and back into the world of the past which was still alive and prospering on the island.

After dragging our moving boxes and furniture into our new abode we decided to rest a while in our back garden. We sat on the grass supping our brew, our legs outstretched before us and the sun, surprisingly hot for October in our chosen part of the world, beating down upon our already perspiring foreheads.

It was then that I noticed just how much the garden sloped. Remarking upon it I told my husband that it would be far better, if we leveled the garden out so that we could enjoy outdoor furniture usage and other pursuits.

He starred at me blankly as he is not the gardening type, and replied that I could do what I liked with it.

While I was mulling over the prospect of doing all of that dirt shifting by myself a friendly face appeared above our little wooden garden gate. It was our fisherman friend who we had met when first visiting the island while it slowly worked its charm upon us.

He informed us that he had come to wish us welcome and to tell us about our neighbour, who was a witch and whom we needed to beware of. Incredulously my husband and I looked at each other, in that way that only close couples can who share a silent language.

We don't believe in witches, only that they used to be wise women who healed people with herbs. But so not to cause offence, and because we found it amusing, we encouraged our fisherman friend to tell us more.

We were told that the witch was an elderly woman who was bent over and who walked with a stick. She would curse people who she didn't like and put spells on unsuspecting people who were vulnerable to her evil ways.

Then he told us that he couldn't help over hearing my idea to level out the garden. He said that instead of leveling the garden out, we, as in he and I, could dig deeper to make a sunken garden and with the spare dirt form a solid barrier between the witch and ourselves. Apparently this was necessary as she had been seen frequently gathering herbs in our garden, stealing flowers and generally making a nuisance of herself.

I felt a little guilty accepting his offer as it meant that I

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