Storytellers are always suspect. They are exotic strangers, swallows who stay only for the heady days of sunshine. Where they go after that is a mystery. They’re welcomed for the tales that will be told again through dark winter evenings. They have an honoured place by the fire, but like any guest who knows his welcome depends on not outstaying […]
Autumn’s mist and Sarah’s Sea I’m back to the months when I longed to see what I’ve since met but have not seen yet.