Sleepy Creek under full moon. The view from the old house.
We’re up a ways, past the woods to the left in that picture, so our view doesn’t include the dock and swing…or the old live oaks under which my mother and Peter married. But you can sense the atmosphere, imagine our view of lights shining from across the creek.
This is where I’ll be writing for a while. It’s not a bad place for crafting stories. Certainly, there’s fodder aplenty here.
