MILTON -- While digging through four feet of dirt over the weekend, I uncovered little trinkets of unfound objects. Some were deviously placed two feet underground by Holly, the possessed Springer-Spaniel. Other bits--deeper still--were tamped underfoot by the builders three years ago. Bits of a tuna sandwich. A small yogurt drink. Eight inches of electric cable. Two brightly coloured, empty bags of crisps. We're digging out the compost hillside because we have a greater vision in mind for the back garden. As it evolves, it's very much a garden we found in the pages of magazines and in the inspiration of others.
Unfound objects can be undetected, undiscovered, or unexposed. They might be secreted behind a special door, hidden from sight by shadows or a secret knock. They could be part of an unfound world. As contributors to Deviant Art and Flickr suggest, unfound is a category of excellence.
Or as John Milton put it, "Th'invention all admir'd, and each, how he to be th'inventor miss'd; so easy it seem'd, once found, which yet unfound most would have thought impossible."
John Milton (1608-1674) -- Paradise Lost ISBN 0140424393
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