Home

Eyes, staring into a swirling white abyss, close and for a moment enjoy delicate flakes ending their descent on already frozen lashes.

Ears strain to hear something, anything.
Anything but silence.

Head lowered and eyes once again open, the scene, familiar yet different, lies peacefully swaddled.

A singular bird sits on a branch of the ancient Oak, under whose centuries-old watch the town sits, perhaps too cold to fly, remains seemingly lifeless.

Sunset here, in this very spot, gifts a time to reflect, if you have the time to spare.

Summer in this very spot, at this very time. offers warmth, colour, fragrance and late afternoon walkers canine companions in toe.

But now, as winter announces its arrival with the first blanket of snow, silence, nothing but silence.

And here he stands again.

Once Upon a Time with children but now a solitary figure with only the curling spires of smoke from chimneys below a sign of other life.

Is he alone?

No never alone.

And with a final look from the top of the hill, still feeling her gloved hand in his and with his cane for support, he is ready to return Home.