Dronfield Library
9th August 2014
"...it was so horrifying, my camera died..." said the artist
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| Peveril Castle |
They were a quietly determined set of storytellers: drawing, scheming, creating, but when you live in Dronfield, you can never know what might be waiting beyond the Kitchen Woods
From an old house with creaking floorboards, a hole in the roof and bats in the attic,
Our adventure took us over Pack Horse bridges where beautiful shining creatures swam in the waters beneath,
To Peveril Castle with its cold, glowing windows, in the Hope Valley, looking for treasure, but warned that if we once went in we might never come out
on down through spooky Kitchen Wood and a single dead tree on a hilltop,
past caves where curious creatures watched with fire on their heads and beards on their chins,
a moment of respite in the cave-houses of Dronfield, a place to rest and recuperate
before facing the bridge that would bring us home, a bridge with mutant crocodiles waiting hungrily in its shade and a tree...
a tree that if we touched it, its leaves would grasp us like glue and hold us upside down until we withered like dead leaves and died
an easy fate to avoid, we thought, until we discover that the tree is so lopsided,
(and the goblins have got into this post so that nothing wants to stay justified for long!)
And as if that wasn't enough, there were small goblins hiding in houses
and strange creatures watching us
and our storytellers and puppeteers were probably more dangerous than everything else!
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| or maybe they were just very involved in their wonderful ideas... |
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