Warning... Unorthodox Hall blog alert... Danger...

Yesterday (and don't fret too much, it didn't last long), just briefly, I felt a little profound.


I was wandering along my dear River Exe, the evening was a stunning one, being enjoyed by many, and I thought...

How precious, yet easily taken for granted, is the simple blessing of freedom. 

To be, to do, to think and to feel. To breathe the air, hear the birdsong, let the sunshine soothe your skin. 

Many a tyrant has tried to curtail freedom. And it can work - for a while. But only a while. 

For like the most humble of weeds, capped by mighty concrete slabs, they always work their way free again. 

And what so very often leads the way in the cause of freedom? 

Writing. Quiet, modest writing. 

Writing about thoughts and rights, truths and understandings. 

Writing to spread the word that you're not alone. 

That when you stand, others stand with you. In one of the purest of human causes. 

Because it joins us all together in the exultation of what it means to be free.