It was twilight. A glowing sun cast reddish hues upon the town of Leek. In the centre of the photograph is Waterloo Mill, now converted apartments, once a thriving silk mill. In the background is the cliff formation known as 'The Roaches'.
And as the sun dipped over the western horizon, I stood on the hill, not far from my home and I soaked in the beauty of twilight. Twilight at the end of a warm and sunny day. The church you see is named 'St. Edwards'.
To the north and the east, the shadows of darkness enveloped the sleepy little town of Leek. Leek, 'The Queen of the Moorlands' and just a few miles away from the magnificence that is the Peak District National Park.
I looked off into the distance. The twinkling lights, the remaining embers of a reddish pink sky, were reminders that is was to time to head home.
I do almost everything on my own. I sit in the living room, listen to the ticking of the clock, as the pendulum gently sways back and forth, back and forth. I sit here alone and in between the chatter that torments my mind, I hear the beating of my troubled heart. Gentle music plays sweetly in the background. I listen to the sounds and reach for the comfort of a melodic tune.
Soon, I will go to bed. Another restless night of staring at the waving shadows that dance and play on the bedroom wall. And I will wonder, yes I will wonder, will the dawn, the calling of the morning birds, ease my worried mind. Everyday is a new day, a new chance, a new hope that my sadness will end. And through my darkness, way off in the distance, maybe, just maybe, I will see the flickering remains of my beacon of hope.
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