Monochrome, Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt

DSC_1924I’ve been here

When I saw the prompt I knew the place, so we visited two days ago. I’m pretty sure it’s the same place. From the front you can’t see the size of the hall. You walk over the bridge over the moat. Through an archway into the courtyard.

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Inside the house is dark and panelled in old oak. There are places where wall paintings are being restored and the old windows are fantastic. Up and down many stairs and spiral staircases you reach the long gallery. Beware the bees nesting at the bottom of the stairs though!

Then outside to the knot garden and main garden. These are hidden round the back.

All in all not Monochrome at all. And if you want to know where it is you will have to wait for Sue’s explanation. I won’t spoil the mystery (and I might not be right!)

Decisions, #writephoto prompt

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For Sue Vincent’s Thursday#writephoto challenge

She hated getting lost. But she wouldn’t use satnav and or Google maps. She preferred old paper maps, the folding type or the atlas style ones for driving. She would memorise a good part of the route. Try and remember road numbers, like the A53 or A34.

She had been distracted by satnav so gave up on it, and although  she would look at Google maps before she went somewhere she would not switch her mobile on in her car, too dangerous.

When she was young she was navigating for her mother as they drove through the countryside. She took them down the wrong road, and had to admit that she had got them  lost. She also got completely bemused in a group of terraced houses near her home when she was really young, so she decided to look for landmarks like shops or trees, train stations, pubs. She also remembered trying to work out where the sun was in the sky. 

Coming up to a sign post like this, with a choice of two routes, she would try and check her map. She looked out for telephone poles because they tend to be on roads. She wanted an idea where the closest village or hamlet was.

The signpost was no use. It was so weathered and old that the words had completely disappeared. No use at all. She could see on the map that it was feilds for miles around. She could retrace her steps. Give up. Or plunge on, decisions.

Left, towards the sun which was starting to go down. Or right into increasing darkness. That was her dilemma.

 

Threshold, whiskey galore?

#writephoto looking-out-1

For Sue Vincent’s Thursday #writephoto prompt.

‘Well it was like this officer’ she said, ‘we were down on the beach and saw the cave’. She sneezed, the cold was getting into her bones ‘ it reminded me of the film “whiskey galore” based on the book by Compton MacKensie, so we decided to explore it. We scrambled down the rocks and walked past the waterfall. We went straight in because it had started to lash down with rain, so it was a chance to get under shelter too’

‘About what time was that?’ the policeman had a little hand held computer which he typed into. Not as interesting as a notebook she thought.

‘Around 10am yesterday.’ she pulled the silver space blanket tighter around her shoulders. ‘We are on holiday, we don’t know about the tides’ She looked down at her husband lying on a stretcher  The ambulance people had put an oxygen mask on him and dressed the cut on his head. He gave her a little wave.

‘Yes, the tide came in while we were exploring, the cave goes back so far and the water just came up before we knew it. We were in waist deep water, but the waves were pushing us deeper in when we tried to swim out. In the end we found a ledge to sit on…. .’ the policeman was still typing ‘so what happened then?’ ‘we tried using our phones but they wouldn’t work, they had got a soaking, we tried wading out, but by then we were too cold. So we just sat as close together as we could.’

She sighed ‘ we must both have fallen asleep because when we woke up again the tide had come back in. We were exhausted and decided to wait till morning. My husband stood up to stretch and that’s when he cracked his head on the rock’. ‘So that’s when we found you’ said the policeman. ‘It was the landlady at your B&B that alerted us’

‘one thing’ he said ‘what’s that wrapped in your coat?’

‘This? It’s an old bottle of 25 year old single malt’ she smiled.

Tranquil – from Sue Vincent’s weekly #writephoto prompt.

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Funny how the light shines in this glade she thought. The trees and the beach look pink and purple. It must be the weather. Then she looked up to where the sun should be, but the star she saw  was red, like the sun when you see it through thick clouds on the horizon. But this star was small and high up in the sky. She could tell it wasn’t her sun. You could actually look at it without being blinded.

She tried to remember how she had got here, what had happened to her? All she could think of was the lights in the sky the night before. Not meteors but green flashes, like falling fireworks. Yes, then something had lifted her up and everything had gone dark and silent….

Where am I? Where have I been brought to? she thought, this place is so peaceful, so quiet. Then she realised what was missing, birdsong, insects churring, the everyday sound of traffic… Wherever she was she knew now it was alien. It could not be Earth.

Written in response to Sue Vincent’s Thursday #writephoto prompt here