I've been walking part of the Welsh Coastal path early (well, fairly early) every morning since Easter. One of the industrial bits, through the docks, but still near the sea. It's interesting how a walk can have various moods - one morning there was heavy mist and voices echoing in a building next to the path sounded quite spooky. Other mornings it has been bright sunshine and I was able to take pictures of the view and the Island, where I live. I have plans for a romantic suspense series set on a fictionalised version, and maybe an historical one too with smugglers. Both on that one day wish list.
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| The painter Turner might have liked the sky. |
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| This is the Island. Now connected to the mainland by road and rail though. |
Walking is a good opportunity for thought. Mostly at the moment that revolves around meal planning and juggling appointments, but occasionally something else gets a look-in. One of the thoughts I've been playing with is the possibility of being in a place at a time when there are people about, but not many, and the idea of seeing something, or someone, out of place. Maybe a face in an unexpected location? Or a lost or abandoned item that could link elements of a story - maybe draw a hero or heroine into events that they would not otherwise have encountered. The classic wrong place, wrong time? Maybe there is a novella in there? It will surface if it's meant to.
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