#FridayFlash - Death On The Moor

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It is early November. The trees huddle in copses, their leaves ablaze in hues of copper and gold for a final fanfare. Creeping mist crawls across the moor, reaching to the heavens to meet the leaden sky in an endless sea of grey. The harsh call of a solitary crow pierces the silence but I need no formal announcement. There are none here to hear it. Indeed, the men who lie at my feet have long since departed their earthly shells - I have already partaken of their ruin.

I walk among the fallen men, and wonder at their folly. The survivors have abandoned them, taking what dignity and pride they had left. No pennants snap and flutter in the breeze. No monuments will be built, the tears of their families the only sign of mourning. I lift my head and breathe deeply of the cold air; snow is coming, and soon the final traces of the battle will be buried until spring. The autumn has died along with these men.

The beginnings of winter stir in my soul and I shiver. Even I am not immune to the season. I think of the victorious duke, and the roaring fire in his great hall. His castle is well guarded, but I find that no fortifications can withstand me. I think I shall pay the duke a visit, and cut short his celebrations as his warmongering has cut short these wasted lives.

The crow utters a farewell as I slip through time and space.

Icy Goes Owl Daft

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Anyone who follows me on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook or Google+ will know I make things. In fact, I make a lot of things. I've been knitting since December 2008, crocheting since around January this year, and making jewellery since around April. That's not to mention the twenty years I've been taking photos, fiddling with Fimo soft or fixing broken clothes. Yet I haven't been blogging about it.

I think part of the problem comes from the fact that all of the blogging gurus originally told you to keep one topic to a blog. According to them, your baking buddies wouldn't be interested in your DIY tips, and your fiction writing friends wouldn't care about fishing. That's one reason why I originally put all of my design related stuff on a separate blog. In trying to promote my writing, I didn't think anyone would be interested in anything I'd made. But due to the way a lot of us now tag and categorise our blog posts, there has been a sea change, and I asked my favourite blogging guru, Kristen Lamb, if I should keep my writing and crafting separate. She said no - you never know which of your writer buddies might also love knitting, and how many of your knitting friends might like your writing.

I also got involved with the inaugural #craftblogclub chat on Twitter this evening, organised by Emma Berry, and decided I'd start blogging about my crafty endeavours. After all, they take up a lot of my time, so why wouldn't I talk about them?

I thought I'd blog about my most recent creation, Sidney (the little owl pictured up there). I originally got the parts as a kit from Let's Knit magazine, and all I had to supply was the needles, the stuffing, and the time. I took the yarn to London on the train last week when I went to the Pompeii exhibition at the British Museum, and ended up knitting the whole thing - I finally assembled him on Sunday. I'm rather proud of him!

I love owls. I've got owl ornaments in my room, a satchel I got in Bonn that's covered in them, various necklaces with owl motifs, and now a cuddly one. As much as I love puffins, I think owls are possibly my favourite birds, particularly snowy owls (Hedwig FTW) and barn owls. They often represent wisdom, in part due to their ability to see in all directions, and they're the bird sacred to Athene. The ancient Greeks even featured them on coins to keep a watchful eye on commerce. English folklore hasn't been so kind, with superstitions tying them to death as heralds of an imminent passing, and tales linking owls to death also appear among First Nation tribes in North America. Regardless of their associations, I think they're magnificent birds, and I'm proud I've now made one!