Frisland

As the last of the sunset warmed the cabin with its fingers of orange light, she put her pen down and leaned back in her chair. Closing her eyes, she let her mind build the picture of the room. The crackle of the fire, the gentle snoring of the puppy both brought a gentle smile to her face. This was truly a place of magic. It was a place where words burst from her mind onto the page and where the changing seasons had brought new scenes to create pictures to both warm the heart and delight the eyes.

A tinge of sadness crept into her heart and her eyes flickered open, noticing the packing crates and part-filled boxes. It was almost time to move on. There was just enough time to say goodbye. She tidied her paper and pens, the pencils and paints which always were at her side. She knew she ought to get up from her seat and put them into a box, yet to rise from the table would break the spell of the place.

One of her sketches caught her eye and she pulled it from the pile to look at more closely. The smile grew ever wider as she took another and another image, the memory of the moments when each was taken lifting her spirits. Her mind was filled with echoes of the hours spent basking in the sun, alone, and with friends. Conversations with companions and with her thoughts sprang to mind. Yes, she could say goodbye and would miss the place, yet she knew she would always carry a piece of it with her.

[Dedicated to Charlie, Anna and Fris for the amazing creation that is Frisland. So much of my thinking, writing and picture taking has been done there. Thank you for having created such a feast for the senses, and then sharing it with us. Love to you all!]