Totally in love with Dylan Thomas’ language thanks to a generous friend who treated me to Under Milk Wood as a delayed birthday present #verylucky “To begin at the beginning: It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black, the cobblestreets silent and the hunched, courters'-and-rabbits' wood limping invisible down to the sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboatbobbing sea. The houses are blind as moles (though moles see fine to-night in the snouting, velvet dingles) or blind as Captain Cat there in the muffled middle by the pump and the town clock, the shops in mourning, the Welfare Hall in widows' weeds. And all the people of the lulled and dumbfound town are sleeping now.” (at National Theatre) https://www.instagram.com/p/CQVdwoIJRZt/?utm_medium=tumblr