The rain finally stopped falling around dinner time. That's lunch to all those people who got the heat wave in Southern England. I saw it on Sky news the other day. Lucky you.
So I walked up the huge hill near our little farm. It's about 500 feet or so. It's always been called the mountain. There's a stone cairn on the top of it. My grandparents used to call it the "Stony Man". The tradition was for the walker to place a stone on top it. The old people would say; "
If you do, you will always come back."
I am not really a big fan of walking. It's a bit like writing - you set yourself on a journey and you're on your own!
Indifference destroys the writers spirit and the will to write. It's like the last mile home always seems the farthest. Or the light is always darkest just before dawn.
I had a good think, walk and lots of philosophical thoughts. I even came back with the first lines of a new poem - song.
Walking gives you the muse!
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