Excerpts

Stop to Think

Pete was in his early sixties, with a short grey haircut, six foot two inches tall and strongly built. Tanned, with chiseled features hewn from years of working outside in all weathers. His deep, clear brown eyes peered out at the road ahead. An open-necked, green, short-sleeved shirt, brown, hard-wearing trousers, and work boots completed his attire. He had the bearing of someone able to handle most things.

His black Ranger pickup truck travelled down the isolated, narrow mountain road, branches touching and creating a canopy overhead. Shafts of sunlight flickered through the leaves. The road was bumpy, but he didn’t care. The air was chilly, but he didn’t mind.

He followed the zigzag route down the mountain road until he saw a parking area about halfway down. He turned in suddenly and slammed on the brakes. The tyres gripped the stony ground for traction with a grusshing sound, breaking the silence, apart from a squawk from a bird in the trees nearby. Pete sat and stared through the windscreen. This was a place he came to from time to time to look across the valley, enjoy the tranquility, think and plan. 

 Excerpt from Shout From Below.

First Steps

It was early morning; the sun had yet to rise, and the waves were gently caressing the soft, fine white sand that formed the beach. Finally, it was time. The life force within him stirred, eyes first, then head, followed by flippers. He instinctively knew what to do by moving his head and egg tooth (caruncle) to bang the inside of his shell that had nurtured and protected him for these last two months. Continually banging the inside of the egg, little by little, the shell cracked until it was wide enough for him to emerge from it into the sand that covered it.

He used his front and back flippers to push through the sand to the surface to seek the brightness that would lead him, and hundreds of other turtles, towards the sea. Struggling forward over seaweed, driftwood, plastic bottles and debris washed up or dropped on the beach, he pressed on. That wasn’t his only problem. Seagulls, crabs, dogs and other creatures were close by, eager to eat fresh, tender hatchlings before they got to the sea. It was heavy going; his life had only just begun a short time ago. His eyes focused ahead, energy propelling him towards the water, trying hard not to notice those snatched by the predators.

Excerpt from Hollityne's Quest.

Coffee Interlude

Fans whirred and blew the air around the coffee shop as he sat waiting for his friend to arrive. 

It was good to sit down with a mocha and a comfortable chair after an arduous journey. He enjoyed the warming sensation as he swallowed the sweet mixture. Other customers were sitting quietly reading, talking to friends or taking care of their infants’ needs. 

The world is a better place with coffee shops to meet friends, sit, read, or relax with a cup of satisfying java and the sound of milk being steamed. One of life’s simple pleasures; enjoyed.  

Extract from So Here We Are.

 The Sea

The beach deserted, the sea bare as the waves crash upon the shifting shingle, pushing, churning, tumbling, pounding and frothing incessantly. The foaming flecks briefly coloured the grey salt water causing shapes to linger momentarily as seagulls fly in small circles or perch upon a stained buoy.

Oh, what lies beneath your tempestuous surface, deep, deep, below. What sins hide you, what secrets still you keep from Time’s fiery beginning and sifted stages to jagged peaks and dizzy canyons. Or man’s ships and bones of old and steel legs with boring mouths that tear at your second skin.

How you change, dark, wild and stormy now, cold and angry, tossing men and vessel with disdain; then calm, idyllic, blue and tranquil, below a hot sun delighting pleasure seekers aboard floating palaces.

Extract from So Here We Are.