A Change In The Weather

Chapter 2: April 31st - The cottage by the wood

It was a wonderful spring morning, and in the wood that bordered the garden, the gentle breeze blew softly through the old oak trees, filling the air with the delicate sound of whispering leaves.

Sunlight bathed the moss-covered ground with dapples of light that danced along perfectly in time with the gently swaying boughs above. The smell of thyme and sage from the herb garden lingered in the air, mingling with the scent from the newly mowed lawn and the dampness from the ancient wood.

Scarlet lay on the grass with her head in her hands reading a book. She kicked her legs about absently in the air and kept on reading, occasionally turning a page here and there, totally immersed in her own little world.

Thomas, her younger brother, was busy digging a hole in the garden’s overgrown vegetable plot. It seemed, to him at least, to be one of the deepest holes he’d ever dug and he stopped briefly to survey his work. After a while he wiped his brow and carried on digging enthusiastically.

The old cottage that bordered Bracken Wood was ivy-clad and made of Ketton stone. Its roof needed re-thatching and the garden was perhaps on the verge of suffocation due to plants and brambles, but even so, to the children it remained a weed-infested picture of perfection.

At the end of the garden, a small rickety-looking timber fence made a half-hearted attempt to stop anyone with a little curiosity from entering the wood, but as it was rotten and falling down it didn’t do a very good job. Scarlet and Thomas would regularly disappear over it and into the thick of the trees. The world beyond the garden drew them irresistibly in. To the children the wood was a magical place full of wonder, there to be explored.

Neighbours were half a mile away, which was all part of the attraction. The family had always longed for somewhere quiet and peaceful to live, away from the commotion of modern life, and so they decided to move from the busy suburbs to the sleepy village of Blakeby, hidden away in the magical-sounding Vale of Bracken.

The little cottage seemed perfect. But it was all quite odd. At least their parents had thought so at any rate. The elderly woman who’d owned it before had been unable to keep up the maintenance and had moved away, leaving a third party with instructions to deal with its sale.

The appeal of the little cottage was so strong that they’d snapped it up without even a second thought. In hindsight, the move had gone by with surprising ease. Everything had just slotted into place. It seemed as if they’d been drawn to this unassuming place by fate itself. That was, if ever they believed in a concept so strange.

But as for the icing on the cake - Scarlet and Thomas couldn’t believe their luck; the school in the village had closed due to a flood. It couldn’t have come at a better time. The weather was glorious. It was almost as if the school holidays had returned once more.

The children hadn’t had chance to explore Bracken Wood properly before, but now that they had there would be a whole weeks worth of exploring to do, and they couldn’t wait to get started.

The wood beckoned.

* * * * *

From high up in the trees something kept a beady eye on them.

From the very first day the new owners had moved in - hidden among the boughs of a moss-covered cedar tree - eyes as old as time observed them with unblinking clarity, quietly inspecting and patiently scrutinizing.

The owl fluffed its feathers up and hopped onto a branch lower down to get a better view, before turning its head around a full one hundred and eighty degrees and then back again to check that it was alone.

The children continued to play as the afternoon slowly wore on, and all the time the owl watched and waited until they were finally called inside.

It spread its wings and silently flew to the roof of the cottage, perching on the chimney stack where it continued to wait – even through the night.

Patient, watchful and ever alert…

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