Once again thank you to Sue Vincent for her weekly Write Photo challenge.
For visually challenged writers, the image shows the a green and rocky landscape, with a path leading up to a dark-mouthed cave.
The entrance was usually unnoticed by the casual passer by, but if you knew where to look, it was a welcome sight to get out of the chill or rain.
The cave itself went back far into the hillside, and was a good place to play Hide and Seek as kids. That was until Timmy got lost and they had a huge search party out looking for him, then Dad told us all in no uncertain terms that the cave was off limits.
Little did we know at the time that Hector lived there.
He was a hermit of the highest order, didn’t like company much and kept himself to himself. Old Widow Thatcher would take fruit and veg from her garden and leave them outside the entrance for him in the summer. Rumour had it Hector was either her husband who’d done a runner for the insurance or a relative hiding from society.
It’s funny how the mind conjures up scenarios for things we don’t fully understand or appreciate.
I met Hector once, purely by accident of course. Maybe he was lonely or just wanted some fresh air but he was sitting on a makeshift stool at his front door watching the birds and the world go by, and beckoned me over.
That very afternoon, he taught me how to whittle, and in later years I would often make tiny animals for my Grandkids from twigs or pieces of bark.
Hector is long gone now, he’d be over a hundred as he was old when I knew him.
The cave is still there though. Funny how out of respect I never wanted to venture back in.