Lost #CCC

I hadn’t walked this way in the woods before so the wooden staircase took me by surprised. I went up the rickety steps and followed the path around, wondering where it would led.

The trees blocked out the sky with thick branches and leaves, over grown bushes scratch me and trailing ivy tried to trip me up. I fought through the nature and popped out into a clearance. Long grasses grew up around thirty or forty different stones.

Confused, I looked at one of the stones and realised I was standing in a lost pet cemetery.

(Inspired by; https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2019/08/14/crimsons-creative-post-40/ with thanks).

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Camp #WhatPegmanSaw

During the summer, the school’s headmaster would go away. Worn down and stressed, he found escaping to the hills and spending time in complete isolation and nature the best to recover.

He pitched a tent, created a fire, built extra shelter from fallen branches and ferns around his camp site. During the daytime, he walked the hills, fished, set rabbit traps and collect edible fruits, plants and fungi. Later, he cooked what he’d caught and had supper.

At night he fell sleep, lulled by rain, wind and animals’ calls, knowing when he woke there was nothing to worry over.

 

(Inspired by; https://whatpegmansaw.com/2019/08/03/black-hills-south-dakota/ with thanks).

Clarity #WritePhoto

Tears blurred my vision. I wiped them away hard and told myself to stop crying. It was too hard to, so I shut my eyes and dragged in some deep breathes.

A strong breeze blew, sweeping the salty smell of the sea and also some spray towards me. The marram grass whipped up and began bruising my ankles and legs, almost as if it as trying to stop me.

I hugged the urn hard and carried on walking. My feet sank into dry sand and kicked up as I walked. Before I reached the lapping waves, I slipped my shoes off. Barefooted, I walked into the sea and felt the cold water rising past my knees.

I give up with wiping the tears away and looked around to make sure I was alone. It was passed 5:30 AM and no one was here on the little beach. This place had been my dog, Teddy’s favourite walk. He had loved jumping into the sea and swimming out to catch a ball. He had enjoyed digging holes and been fascinated by crabs and jellyfish on the beach.

There was a feeling a rightness to set him to rest here.

It didn’t have to be done quickly, but I knew I’d changed my mind otherwise. I unscrewed the lid and tipped the urn slowly. Grey ash rushed out and vanished into the waves. I dropped the lid and the urn then dropped down, the sea came up to my shoulders.

Tears and grief swamped me. I couldn’t move, only stay sitting in the sea with the waves splashing against me.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2019/07/18/thursday-photo-prompt-clarity-writephoto/ with thanks).

Hindsight #1linerwed

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He had adopted the deer as a baby and since setting her free, she had lived in his backyard.

 

(Inspired by; https://lindaghill.com/2019/07/17/one-liner-wednesday-hindsight/ with thanks).

Last #CCC

He walked down the dirty road, the only sounds his movements and wind in the grass. He had been out hunting – if you could call it that. In his rucksack were rusty cans of vegetables, stewed meat and bottles of clear river water which he still had to boil before drinking.

Arriving back at the farm house, he checked on things – animals and crops good – then he sat at the worn table and ate a tin of peaches. He found them good but too sweet, still he savored them, knowing they could well be the last just like he was.

 

(Inspired by; https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2019/07/10/crimsons-creative-challenge-35/ with thanks).

 

 

Spikes #SundayPhotoFiction

Lakshmi Bhat

Hog built the spiky fence to keep the bears out. It was easy enough to do, he took some tall logs, hammered bits of wood in which he then shaped into spikes. Finally, Hog dug holes and stuck the logs in around his cabin.

He didn’t mind the bears, but they could be dangerous and bothersome. Hog didn’t want to hurt them but he had to defend himself. This idea of training them to stay away with the pain of the spikes, had come to him one afternoon when he had seen a bear stealing honey from a beehive and getting stung but the angry bees.

Days of work later, the fence complete and with a gate so he could get by, was done. Hog admired his hard work then went into the forest to check his rabbit traps.

When Hog came back, he saw a bear sniffing the new logs. He held his breath and watched as the bear brushed up against the spikes, felt the pain and stumbled away.

Hog smiled, his fence had worked! Feeling happier then he had in the last few months, he went inside and had a good meal of rabbits and vegetables.

 

(Inspired by; https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2019/06/15/sunday-photo-fiction-june-16-2019/ with thanks).

 

Red #CCC

Atilla the tractor 1

The tractor belonged in a museum but Hugh couldn’t part with it. There was something about the old fashioned way he liked. This ‘futuristic’ farming which was now everyday life made him feel so dull.

Technology ruled the land. The robots did all the work from sow to harvest and looking after the animals. Humans were only needed to fix the robots, read the results and eat the food.

Hugh, riding around in the tractor, could just picture a world were there were no humans because the robots had found a way to be without them and that was a very dark future to be facing.

 

(Inspired by; https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2019/06/05/crimsons-creative-challenge-30/ with thanks).

 

 

Small #WritePhoto

an old, carved stone whose recesses are stuffed with red and black ladybirds.

It was a too hot summer afternoon, so I had taken toddler Ava into a shady patch of the lower garden. We sat on the grass, in the dappled shadow of an oak tree which rose up over the reminds of the old family chapel.

Whilst Ava played with some of her toys, I looked at the fallen stone walls and large pieces of stone decor. It was hard to imagine what the chapel had once looked like but I had seen some photos and though it had been small it had been a splendid place.

On the other side of the chapel, out of sight down a sloping hill and nested around three willow trees, was the family cemetery. Every Bartlett was buried there and when her time came, Ava would be too.

I on the other hand, just a nanny, would be buried in the village church graveyard where all the other past servants of Bartlett Manor where.

‘Look! What’s it!’ Ava cried.

I turned, frowning and  saw the three year old pointing to one of the decorative stones. Picking her up, we went for a closer look.

Crowding into the nooks of what might have been a corner stone of the outside ceiling with a now moss covered leave like pattern on it, with hundreds of small ladybirds.

Ava squealed and tried to stick her fingers into the crawling mass. I grabbed her hand and pulled it back.

‘They are only baby ladybirds,’ I explained.

‘Lay-d-burs,’ Ava tried to pronounce.

I laughed at her and clapped her hands together as I sang;

‘Ladybird, ladybird,
Fly away home,
Your house is on fire
And your children all gone;
All except one
And that’s little Ann,
And she has crept under
The warming pan.’

We laughed together then carried on watching the ladybirds.

‘What lay-d-burs doing?’ Ava asked.

‘Napping. Like you should be doing,’ I replied.
Ava pulled a face and began to make a fuss. I quickly settled her down on the picnic blanket and started to read some fairy tales to her.
The heat and tiredness got to her and she was soon asleep.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2019/06/06/thursday-photo-prompt-choices-writephoto/ with thanks).

Ladybird nursery rhyme quote from; https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46960/ladybird-ladybird

Morning Snuggles

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She felt the dead weight on her feet and wondered what was going on. Sleepily, she turned the duvet and looked down. The rescue dog was sprawled at the end of the bed, snoring away.

She smiled and settled back down, knowing she had done the best thing.

Old Stables #CCC

Outbuildings at Hethel

Perhaps once famous horses had lived in the old stable and maybe a maid had fallen in love with a groom there and they had romanced in the hayloft.

I daydream too much but I really wish to know what had happened in the stables throughout their history. All those stories were lost to time and it’s such a shame.

For years, no horses’ hoofs had echoed the whitewashed walls, no boys had run in and out, nature hadn’t been cut back but this was all about to change. I was bring the stables back to life and soon the walls would have stories to tell once again.

 

(Inspired by; https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2019/05/22/crimsons-creative-challenge-28/ with thanks).