Bright Blessings

“What… is that?” It was the first sign of interest Blake had shown since he and Anna had arrived to look over the house. She couldn’t figure out why he was so disinterested in a free and clear home, an inheritance from her grandma. It rankled the more because Anna had so many happy memories of summers there. Following his gaze she spotted the tiny door set just above the wainscot, the teeny ladder which gave access. “Oh wow, I can’t believe it’s still there!” she cooed, clapping her hands in delight, “The fairy door!” “The what?” “I told you I used to stay here, summer holidays and that, right?” Blake nodded, his eyes wandering the room, judging and finding wanting. “Well, Grandma had a tribe of house fairies who used to come out and do the housework overnight. She always said it was how she managed to spend all day playing with us kids and still keep the house spotless.” “And you believed that? Geez, thought you had more sense.”   To hide the hurt, Anna kn...

She sat, deep in the long grasses, listening to the world. The park had long since been abandoned, the upkeep of all those acres beyond the council budget. Green paint flaked lazily from bent railings. Weeds sprouted merrily between the stones of once pristine gravel paths. Hedges, before trimmed into prim perfection, clambered eagerly toward the skies in great clumps of crazily tangled branches.   She could hear the scurry of small things in the grass, the occasional flutter or buzz of an insect as it zoomed by her ear about its business of survival. All else was silence, stillness, suspension. Usually she headed straight for Grandmother Willow, a sprawling, drooping presence in the centre of a daisy-strewn lawn by the boating lake. A quick glance up and down the road, a dart through the gap in the fence where a rusted upright had given way, and a slow stroll towards the green haven to sit with her back to the tree, sheltered beneath drifting, billowing boughs, wa...

Cara shifted position, easing out her back, a little envious of Snaps who dozed happily in the shade of an overgrown pergola. Her spine spoke in sharp cracks, but she had promised herself she would finish cutting back the bramble patch before sunset. A glance at the sky revealed a rapidly sinking sun and the first blush of violet. Cara set to with a will. Five minutes, a pile of tangled, thorny debris and several new battle scars later, she sat back on her heels and stared at the odd little tableau her efforts had revealed. At the centre of the patch a smooth triangle of stone had been set up. Next to it, a toy-sized pickaxe sat buried in the earth. To Cara it looked uncomfortably like a memorial. Scratched into the stone were the words ‘Olla’s Gold’. The entire area was surrounded by orange flowers with vivid yellow centres. “What is this, Grace?”  She’d got into the habit of chatting to her late aunt, surprised by how often an answer to her question slipped a...

I saw these on a walk. I have no idea why they look this way but they inspired a new story from Cara and Snaps. Marvellous Moments 2 - Leaf “C’mon Snaps. The day’s too good to waste amongst boxes and paint fumes.” Cara shrugged out of her shirt, already decorated with enough splashes to satisfy Jackson Pollock, took a moment to admire the calming green on the fireplace wall then headed out the back door, Snaps alternately running rings around her feet, or pelting off with gleeful barks. She took note of the plants whilst heading toward the little gate which gave onto the woodland beyond her boundary fence. Aunt Grace had been an enthusiastic, if somewhat erratic, gardener, but most of the plants had been ‘set free’; Grace had been keen on the idea of one man’s weed being another man’s prized bloom. The garden sang with colour, Cara not even sure what half the riotous profusion was. ‘With all due respect to you, Aunt Grace’, Cara mused, ‘I may have to prune if I want...