over the hill


  1. Fireworks: I remember those nights. Watching with anticipation as dad would search the wooden fence for a place to fix the spinning Catherine wheel. Making a Guy out of old clothes and newspaper. Lying in bed listening to the sound of screeching rockets long past my sleep time.

    Farm roads: I guess that ones perspective on journey vs. destination changes depending on the comparative value of each upon completion of both.

    1. Oh gosh, I remember the guy now! And the Catherine Wheels - they were my favourites. And the time a certain someone had the clever idea of letting off all the fireworks in one go. And do you remember throwing double happies at each other for days? Back when childhood was spunkier than it is now.

      As for journey vs destination: I think they're both the same thing.

  2. Lovely thought, Sarah. Yes, we must always see what is over the hill.

  3. It's a beautiful photo Sarah. Your writing is so lovely and I love to come and visit your serene place.



In the quiet hours, the inbetween moments and the half-light, I sometimes like to write. My books are made from fairytale shadow and old magical songs. They speak about dreams, lost wishes, longing for something beyond the self, and always about love. You can learn about them here.

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