The rain is back, the wind is blowing. Cowal Games weekend is upon us, and creativity seems to be returning as the swallows leave. Take a look over at Frying an Egg, where there is a new challenge to write a micro story; if you've not been before, the idea is to write a story of 100 words to a given opening, conclusion or idea; you can leave one in the Comments if you're not a regular. It's amazing how stimulating the extreme restriction in length can be - you have to suggest possibilities, hint at depth, conjure up a hinterland sometimes with a single word or by something you don't say. And then you find you have to be ruthless, losing 20 words without sacrificing essentials, and discover the result is better than before. Great!
And while you're at it, there's a new poem here on frankenstina: I wrote it actually during the Somme trip but was silly enough to enter it for something which required it not to be reproduced anywhere. Now it's free. I've already quoted it in its entirety during a sermon. If you enlarge the photo which accompanies it you can see the bluebells and the ridges of trenches among the trees to which the poem refers.
And as always, I wonder when - or if - I shall feel the need to write again!