Carenza Hayhoe

The Shed

The Shed

My original Writing House was a fisherman's hut above the high tide line in Church Ope Cove. The only way was on foot, it was a long climb down and a weary way up so I would spend days at a time there, friends were always welcome to sit down for a while - the kettle was always on.

It was good to take time to absorb the peace, all you could hear was the cry of gulls and the sound of waves pulling the pebbles on the shore.

Today the Writing House is only a memory, instead I have a retreat in a corner of our garden, The Shed has room for plenty of book shelves, a small sofa and a big flat topped desk not forgetting a small stove - it is a good place to work, to dream and to welcome friends.

Pebbles on the Shore
Alone
no sound but the sucking of the sea
pulling the pebbles on the shore.

Solitude
peopled with the presence of the past
no longer tangible yet real today.

Invisible
crowding and crying ‘come
join us and be one with us’.

Tomorrow
must belong to those who follow after
make of it what they will,
the sea will still be there
pulling the pebbles on the shore.