When I first set foot on the flatlands, I felt naked.
My childhood was spent clambering over, around, and through a variety of hills, slopes, and mountains.
The time I spent living in flatter areas I used to seek out ravines to pretend that they were hillsides.
I think that sometimes people see mountains as barriers or obstructions.
I have always seen them as pathways.
When I was smaller I used to climb until my legs burned, standing on the top of the highest places I could find and staring out around me.
It wasn’t to conquer or to rise above the world below me.
It was because at the top, you could see the new mountains, the further ridges.
The magic of mountains is that you are always searching for the lands just beyond them.
Every stroke of my pen, I reach towards the summit.
Looking beyond for the new, strange lands before me.
Always another world to explore
This week is dedicated to everyday magic. I will be sharing some of the real-life inspiration for the strange things that appear in the pages of my stories.
If you would like to see more worlds beyond the mountains, I have also written a fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor. It is available here.
