We sit in a circle, candles brightening the space and the evening begins. It’s like a flower slowly opening, petal by petal as one by one take voice and share their story or poem. Whether personal, imagined or discovered. Each a delight and welcomed. There is no rush and no one really knows what is going to happen or what the telling will lead!

Last evening was another rich tapestry of stories … of herding hares, a beautiful diamond, trolls and a magical fish. There were personal stories and poems of irrepressibility and of losing and finding faith.

It was a gentle evening and as we slowly departed there was an ease and a feeling of goodwill that sharing our stories always brings.