At Peace #SundayWritingPrompt

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It was a strange place to go to find some quiet but graveyards always drew me. Nearly all the time, they were empty of people and blocked out the everyday noises.

I wandered around to the sounds of birds, wind in the trees and my footsteps. I looked at the headstones, thought about those long gone lives and what they might make of the world today.

There was a peace here that was nowhere else and a deeper connection to life that only comes when you reflect. It was my place for those moments.

 

(Inspired from; https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/03/17/sunday-writing-prompt-peace-of-mind/ with thanks).

 

 

Honour #WritePhoto

I liked walking around the little cathedral on rainy afternoons mid-week day because it was the quietest time. Everyone was busy at other places and ignored the grey stone structure tucked away in between the tall office buildings. The services and practices were scheduled before and after my time slot, so often I found myself alone.

That was just what my emotional torn soul needed; the escape from everything. The healing silence and stillness of all the stone and wood. The smell of melting wax, dust, old bible pages and hint of polish filled the air.

The rain drummed on the dark stained glass windows, I knew all the religious scenes, angels and saints they displayed by heart having stood before each of them so many times. I trailed fingers on soft worn down wooden pews and looked at the memorial stones for long forgotten people on the walls.

Peacefulness wrapped around me. I was safe in these walls no matter what happened outside. I felt as comforted as if my mother was hugging me tightly, there was nothing to fear.

I walked down into the little crypt which was open to the public. It was dimly lit by wall lights and flickering candles. There were sarcophagi of people from hundreds of years ago scattered about and you could see what they looked like from their statues resting on top. There were lords and ladies laying together, with little lions and dogs at their feet and men who had been rich and powerful enough to get buried here but my favorite was the knight.

He lay alone at the back of the crypt, the statue of him extremely faded and whatever had been known about him lost to time. Perhaps, he had been a Crusader or Templar or just a noble knight to some fancy Lord.

Someone had been here recently. Approaching, I saw a red rose and a small note card resting on the statue’s stomach. Picking up the card, I held it to some light and read, ‘Thank you for giving your life so I could led mine.’ 

Oh! So someone did know who he was. His memory wasn’t lost as I believed, it was safe in somebody’s family history. My mind spun with questions; who’s family? Could I meet them? How much did they know about the knight?

I set the card back gently and calmed my thoughts, I didn’t come here think like that.

Touching the almost faded face of the statue, I reasoned with myself.

‘Some secrets are best kept in history,’ I spoke.

Turning away, I walked back through the crypt. I might never know who the knight was but someone else did and that was what truly mattered.

 

(Inspired by https://scvincent.com/2019/01/10/thursday-photo-prompt-honour-writephoto/ with thanks).

Rainy

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I liked walking in the rain. I enjoyed listening to the noise of water on the roofs of houses and cars, on discard litter, on leaves and umbrellas. Every note was a different sound, coming together to form the melody of the rainfall. That song for me calmed my soul like nothing else could.

I didn’t walk with a destination in mind. I went wherever I fancied with no fear of getting lost. I had explored the streets of this town for years, little had changed.  I crossed roads, went into parks, cut through graveyards with their dark church guardians then over the bridge.

The sound of rain on the river was loud and blocked some of the background town noise. I watched for awhile before turning and heading back home. I felt better, less stressed and calmer. Cold prickled my skin, making my sense of feeling higher, the handle of my umbrella a solid weight in my hands.

Christmas Eve

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The church bells rang out signalling the start of midnight mass. People walked or drove  over, some carrying presents or boxes of food for the poor. Snowflakes fluttered from the dark sky whilst fairy lights everywhere twinkled warmly. The fresh air was mingled with the scents of pine, hot cooking and frankincense.

In the church they gathered, singing hymns and saying prays by the flickering candle light. They celebrated the birth of a baby thousands of years ago that they believed changed the world for the better. With hearts full of joy and wonder, they wished for a Christmas of peace.

Dear Diary #46

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Dear Diary,

It’s been really sunny and warm these last four days and today it looks depressing. The sky is all grey and rainy, it still feels warm but more of a lurk bath water feel then the fresh hot water yesterday felt like. It’s hard to tell if it’s raining or not right now because the window is water marked and it’s more like fine drizzle when it does fall.

I did think about going out and doing some stuff, though I don’t have anything actual to do. So, I tided the house and missed the kids. I hope the weather in Skegness is better then it is here. School holidays really throw me off! I should have gone with them, taking up my parents offer and had a week enjoying myself.

But I wanted the space and time away from them all. I wanted to go on a few dates, hang out with some old friends, do ‘me’ time and just think back to being younger and not having any worries. Somehow though, I’ve done it all in four days and though it’s been nice, it’s not made me think any differently about my life. Expect, for the fact I never thought I was going to be a twenty-five year old, widowed mum with twins boys.

There’s still time isn’t there? It’s still not to late to drive to Skegness, it’s only an hour and a half away. And then I can have a few days away, perhaps the sea air will do me some good. It’ll be a nice surprise for the twins.

I’m going to get packing!

Postcard #44 Elysian #atozchallenge

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Elysian; beautiful or creative, divinely inspired, peaceful perfect.

Dear Violet,

The world is quiet here. Well, it would be because I’m alone on an island! This morning, I found the most beautiful seashell yet. I drew it for you, but I don’t think it does justice. Recently, I’ve felt so inspired as if something greater, beyond us, has influenced me. I’ve been drawing, writing and reading a lot more. It’s so peaceful here, it’s almost too perfect! And yet when I think back to how things were before….I realise I would take all of this over that any day.

Yours in hiding,

L.

Age #TaleWeaver

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Sometimes it was just nice to sit down in silence and think. The park at sunrise was my place to go and do that. Nearly everyone was still in bed and there weren’t many cars on the roads. My favorite bench was at the far side of the small lake, further in then all the other resting spots. It give a great view though and if joggers, dog walkers and early starter workers were around I wouldn’t see any of them.

Age was getting to me though and it was a struggle to rise at four or five in the morning. Let alone hobble all that way! Getting the bus was easier, but sometimes I didn’t make it in time to see the sun began to rise. I tried not to let it get to me, the same way one might an illness or an argument. Like a circle though, it keep coming back around.

You don’t really think about mortally when you are young. You believe you are immortal and your life is too busy to stop and ponder deep questions like that. Though death is close at hand for us. He doesn’t care what you are doing when he sees your number is up and it’s time for him to come to take you.

Death is a friend of mine. That seems strange to say but he’s taken my three wives, two sons, my oldest brother and sister, my parents and grandparents too. He’s been apart of my life since I was born. I’m not afraid and I’ve always known I wasn’t going to live forever. That realisation helps as you age and you are just waiting out the days.

I’m following in my dad’s footsteps once again. We all do that you know. As young people we say no! I won’t become like my parents, I’ll be better or even worse if that’s what it takes. But then, we slowly become like them. Little habits they have, become our own. Voices that sound like them in moments of anger or sadness. We phrase from ourselves to them and back again, another circle that can’t be broken.

The sun rises and I feel the warmth on my dry, wrinkled skin. I wonder if there’s anything beyond this life. I’m not sure I want there to be. One life has been enough for me. I’ve said my peace and that’s all.

(Inspired by; https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/03/15/tale-weaver-163-aging-15th-march/ with thanks).

Dark #writephoto

The first snowflake fell onto my book’s open page before I could turn it. I paused, tutted and watched the flake melt into a water dot over a word. Turning my head up, I saw the sky had grown dark with heavy unfriendly grey clouds. It was time to go home.

Gathering my things, I knew everyone thought I was strange. Why would a young woman go out to the lake to sit and read in the snow? I liked the peace and the distance from people. I didn’t feel the cold at all, in fact, I didn’t feel anything and hadn’t since the incident.

With everything neatly placed in my army hiking bag, I began walking back. The snow was deep but my footprints from hours ago were still clearer. I traced over them but the opposite way this time. The wind picked up as more snowflakes began to fall. I powered on, enjoying the feeling and sight of raw nature.

I almost slipped into the lane but was able to hold on. There were a few four by four car tire tracks marking their way through the snow. A few meters up, off to the side lay an abandoned blue car, half buried in the snow. I had checked as I’d arrived and no one was inside, thankfully. They’d have frozen out here.

A few minutes later and I’d arrived at the edge of the village. The tops of houses stuck out of the snow like early spring flowers. Nobody was walking the streets or driving down the roads. They were all inside, sat by fires, keeping warm and safe. I should have been so too, but there was only so much of being inside I could handle.

I needed to be out, feeling all kinds of weather against my skin. Doing something physical and being my past self. I wasn’t very good at being a ‘normal person,’ it had been sort of trained out of me. I had liked that life, it give me my place in the world but now on almost permanent leave due to injury and mental health problems, everything had been turned around.

Reaching the front door of my parents’ cottage, I didn’t want to go in. The urge to stay outside lingered. However, the wind was really howling and blowing now heavy snowflakes into me. So unless I wanted to get lost in a blizzard and or possibly die, it was time to go in and find another way to spend my time.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2018/03/01/thursday-photo-prompt-dark-writephoto/ with thanks).

Mellifluous (Part 1) #atozchallenge

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Mellifluous; sweet and smoothly flowing sound.

It was her favourite thing to do after work. She would sit back, put the headphones over her ears and find some music to suit her mood. Sometimes it would take a few tries, but then she would hit a smooth song that would be sweet to her ears.

She would relax and let the sounds carry her far away. She’d leave everything behind; her troubles, her thoughts, her dreams, her body. She would drift on a cloud of notes, high above everything, where nothing could touch her.

And there she would find it; nirvana.

River

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The river was so reassuring in it’s constant movement. The sound of water flowing over rocks and tree roots as it passed through the forest was like the drum beat that kept everything else going. It was in fact the core of the circle of life but it could also symbolism so much more. Power, determination, cleansing and unity. The river did not seem to care about it’s small beginnings or it’s eternal joining of the sea, it just followed the set path before it and allowed it’s voice to be heard by anyone who would listen.