short stories
this page will be frequently updated with magical tales, so sign up to ensure you never miss one
Idle Thoughts
Little Maverick would always greet me with a stretch and a yawn, bound across and sit to attention with his head in the air, waiting eagerly to be patted and told what a good boy he really is, then with demi-pause he rises and runs to the door. With keen anticipation we make our way across the fields to the rhynes and ditches where my ear catches the sound of a male blackcap and I garner the quality of his song. As I caretake in the moment I immerse myself into the landscape. All the while Maverick rests easy watching the moorhens with their ingratitude of chicks, feeding diligently on a smorgasbord of scattered food. Suddenly from the reeds, Stumpy the rat joins the throng. With his three paws down, he wobbles around feasting himself on the tasty delights.
AUGUST – The Mute Season
It is now early August, the lanes and the woods are silent, without the pellucid sound of birds singing. Only the yellowhammers in the hedgerows are with song. In the skies above the cries of the buzzards can be heard. This is the time when birds begin their summer moult to replace their suit of feathers ready for the harshness of winter.
JULY-Thunderheads and Lightning
It was now early July, the morning was fine, the sky blue, and the clouds below like fluffy white balls of cotton. The lane was awash with the great willowherb, a splash of pinkish mauve amongst the tall umbellifers. There was an abundance of golden yellow ragwort, this plant being the distain of many, but not for the ephemeral wings of the cinnabar moth who rears her yellow and black striped caterpillars on this tenacious plant.
JUNE-Flaming June
It is now early June, and the sky was full of gold, painting the little lane with summer magic. The air was alive and humming with bees collecting sweetness from the daisied fields. I love the luxuriant profusion and mad scatter of our wonderful wildflowers, and the vast array of male hoverflies carousing around them.
Purple Rain
As I slumber in a mantle that covers all human thoughts, I am awakened by the rain. Sweeping across the fields outside my window it lashes the panes leaving artistic rivulets of water obscuring my view. But the wind soon lost its strength and began to blow more leisurely. I like watching places wake up, the changing light, the mood of the sky and the freshness of the new morning. I love to listen to the song thrush that sings its song twice, but sadly not this morning.
A Calm Repose
My first visit to this peaceful place felt like a communion of sound and colour that was to open new creative possibilities. My new senses act like an antenna picking up signals. I began to tune in to the sound of my steps, feel the wind, the sound of the swaying branches. My mind makes space for what is to come. I take a breath or two, lose my eyes and tune into my new surroundings. The feeling I have is calm and uplifting. It took me back to something I may have lost a long time ago and had forgotten.