Note

I go to search the church. This proves a dusty and fruitless exercise until I check the pile of prayer books by the door to the priest's sacristy.

Inside the cover of the second top book is the photocopy of a message in what looks like Russian. Living in Finland next to such a powerful neighbor I can recognise their script well.

I know it is a message about the cross, so I take the photocopy and return quickly to my taxi. I ask Sergei if he can read it. He says it says:

“The moon breaks through
the billowing fog,
pouring the sad light
on the sad fields.”

His voice wavered as he got to the end and he wiped a tear from his eye.

What could it mean?

I need local help to decipher it and that is best found amongst those gathered at the spiritual pole.

I told Sergei.

“Ah, you mean the Witches Triangle,” he says. “I'll take you to Daylesford, the nearest town.”