“Silly old Samson. What an unassailable fool he is. He insists on keeping the hedges as father liked them and continues to sculpt the foliage into ridiculous shapes that are supposed to be animals.
I am sure that I offended him when I mistook his lion for a bear and his bear for a hippopotamus. Yet my comments seem only to have encouraged him further.
And so–on every morning of this balmy summer–I have been cursed to awaken to the sound of Samson’s shears clipping at the hedges, until naught will be left of them but scattered leaves and bare branches.”
— Excerpt from the diary of Elsinore Sinnet-Tierney
Michael Scott Hand 