Picture Post: The Path to the Storytellers

As promised, some photos from a walk I took this week, inspecting the Equinox’s wildlife. It’s a shame I didn’t get any clear photos of squirrels, but there were a good number springing about, too. As usual, I’ve been thinking about writing and planning writing, and this walk gave me the perfect inspiration for a segment where the MC wanders into the house of two peculiar characters…

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Four different genus of daffodil dotted the stony path. Em knelt and put her nose to one with an orange centre in a white crest, like a reverse lion-head. Ahead, the path curved down to the further end of the tributary, where a wooden bridge had been reinforced by spokes protruding from the water. Em winced – if fish had swum here once, they’d been scattered by the abrasive shadows.

She glanced at the rockery bridge blocking the end of the tributary; the creak of the board swinging there almost drew her muddy path. Creak, wobble, smack: ‘to the house of the storytellers’.

“As if I would obey a written injunction,” she told her left shoulder.

Yet, the daffodils swirled around her feet – Em shrugged and she’d landed at the sign, the mottled door peeking through the stone when she looked hard enough. A door. And her mind urged her through it.

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More photos… 😀