Alison Wells Author

Outside the window the solar garden lights come on as the darkness falls. Despite the still short days and overcast skies they have absorbed some energy to reflect back. Tomorrow is the official beginning of spring, a stretch in the day, the sun returning. The valiant efforts of the solar lamps echo our own vestiges…

Bright, light. I emerge from my dark winter haven into the beneficence of sun, the stalk of the leafless dogwood still flaming red, a bird arcing and dipping in the coyly blue sky. I hang the family’s laundry on the washing line and keep my eyes on the sky. Then words appear all together like…

A bright rectangle appears on the bedroom wall, intensifies, then branches emerge, criss-crossing. Then within the frame, everything moves, a motion picture. A gift from a valiant sun  newly risen, making a wall shadow of trees.  

Sun fire on the hillside, deep red glow, a glimpse caught through trees, unexpected glories.

These last few days, being mindful, taking one to one time with the children, being where I am, listening to unexpected stories and revelations at the bedside of my carefully tucked in children. Finally everything put to bed, the pleasure of now lightly attended, I feel the exhilaration of my available writing time, satisfaction and…

Leaves skitter and rise with the wind underneath, spin in a perfect spiral and drop.

Red wrecks, burning barns with horses, conkers, brambles, rumoured pools of quicksand with makeshift planks, spies and tag and dare and hide and seek.  I remember. And now a parent, as my children move beyond infancy I let them go, off with friends, racing with the air on their faces on the green, near the…