Ned Hayes's Blog, page 112
March 28, 2014
"Spring grew into summer, and the rhythm of my life now included...
"Spring grew into summer, and the rhythm of my life now included Nell. I learned that her secret thyme and mint beds were deep in the woods, out by the chuckling stream that disappeared underground. She gathered plants she needed every day, and she was as a child who gathers flowers in May."
PHOTO: hungariansoul
March 27, 2014
"The road is a river of ice, slick and unforgiving. A harsh...
"The road is a river of ice, slick and unforgiving. A harsh sweep of white iron, smooth as glass and cold enough to freeze any uncovered inch of flesh to the surface. Hillocks and haystacks rise up, isles in a smoking brume. Here and there snow has blown aside, revealing the line of the great white stone road that slices through the hills."
"There are some who believe to speak of a thing is to summon it...
"There are some who believe to speak of a thing is to summon it into the world, and Tom speaks with such conviction. We become so quiet the loudest noise is the sizzle of burning tree sap. The darkness around us presses down, as if to listen. The music of the wind rises and falls with the swirls of the snow, the creaking of the sea of branches in the darkness above us."
PHOTO: darkface: DARK FOREST 2 by TADBEER
March 26, 2014
“I can see her now. On the day we take the forest path to the...
“I can see her now. On the day we take the forest path to the deep stream beside the alder copse. There a plover calls in the deep woodsy stillness, and then a pair of martins dart across the over-grown path. Through the trees can be seen the thick and fast-moving line of flowing water, a steep bank beneath our feet and flowering at the edge of the water, the purple loosestrife and meadowsweet of spring.”
March 25, 2014
"A good book should leave you… slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading..."
- William Styron (via imahappypersun)
"Stars steam away as a pale sun rises, hot coal dropped in a...
"Stars steam away as a pale sun rises, hot coal dropped in a watery sky. Light seeps across the forest as the reedy shrieks of wood fowl echo in the trees. The path from our village to the King’s Highway is a crooked line of mud rutted with cart tracks, a rough trough where the dirty snow is stabbed through by the hooves of feral sheep. To the east, that faint track leads up through the forest until it reaches, finally, the open country."
— from the novel Sinful Folk
PHOTO SOURCE: Walking through the forest by Jurek.P.
Sinful Folk, by Ned Hayes, illustrated by New York Times...
Sinful Folk, by Ned Hayes, illustrated by New York Times bestseller Nikki McClure — now featured on CoverScroll.
"… Her body full of sentences and moments, as if awaking from sleep with a heaviness caused by..."
- Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient (1992)
