A short story written early to mark remembrance day. He asked why the flowers lay at the foot of the gravestone. All about them the wild wind whipped up flurries of leaves in its lament; a swirling storm of rusty oranges and muted browns twisting round trees and graves like an ever moving mist. TheContinue reading “A grave to remember”
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Beginnings
Swoosh, swoosh. Swoosh, swoosh. The waves gently brushed against the coracle, rocking it in the most peaceful motion. The briny air – caught on a slight, fresh breeze – filled the noses of the two occupants. Above, the great tapestry of sparkling stars winked, danced and twinkled against the violet-black backdrop of the pre-morning sky;Continue reading “Beginnings”
Musings of Waking in the World 