Prometheus lost. Light fires for him.
The sword stood embedded in a rock larger than a sheep. He knew it his destiny; it was an unavoidable truth. Merlin had told him so. He tugged. Nothing happened? "Pull, Arthur," encouraged the ancient wizard. "My name's Alf, not Arthur." "Damn, I really should magic a new hearing aid!"
￼ This place of legends Where breaths hang in the valley Make mists of these dreams Author’s Note: I took this picture near Skelwith in the English Lake District. Magical!
For each beast a hero born.
The lifespan of wolves made it difficult for Luna. No sooner would she grow attached to one than nature would take it from her. She never really settled with the pack. I did my best for my daughter, acted as I thought a father should, but my turning presented problems. I would never have […]
Winter hit with one swift, remorseless stroke. Rock and meadow gave way to an ocean of snow that undulated in the fierce north winds. The pack proved restless around their new alpha. I had become a king amongst wolves without raising a paw. It was not a title I’d asked for nor savoured. But, if […]
Lost in reflection. In reflecting lost.