Autumn visits the Lyn valley . . . and so do I.

Evening magic at the well.
RHS Rosemoor.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
McCrae

Many of these stories are written within walking distance of the beautiful Bideford Bay, North Devon Coast.
Photo shows the remnants of a storm that crossed the Atlantic to show us what it still could do. Amazing nature October 2014.

Each journey and its first step. . . each story and its first word. A word that begins your adventure into your own spirit world of discovery.
I recently read that a handful of darkness taken into a room does not dispel the light but a handful of light taken into a room illuminates all, pushing back the darkness into shadows. So it is I hope with my stories. I hope you find it just so. Sometimes we'll find something in the shadows too !

"Stories on which the Sun will never set."
RHS Rosemoor sun dial
July 2014
Canine Critic solves the puzzle.

My old pal, 'Rupert', resting in the shade of his garden. ... and may I say what a good choice of reading material.
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Where to start? Where to finish? Some of life’s journeys are planned and others not, so we shall start with the first step and begin the exploration without worrying overmuch of our direction. Only to know that there is somewhere out there worthwhile of our effort.
Surely in all of us there must be something of the adventurer, warrior, and philosopher; in all of us a curiosity to know ourselves; to step out of our sheltered place and into a wilder, grander world, to feel the wind and hear the sound of boots on snow, to feel the sun and watch the eagle fly. To enjoy the pleasurable fatigue of the honourable toil of journeys well made. To tell our tale and relive the feeling of our day, no matter success or loss, for those that tried can only win.
So, why not dig out your boots, thick coat and waterproofs, fill your flask, make your sandwiches and come on some travels with me.
Richard Small