A crocodile of words

A crocodile of words  

and the 

spinning plate of death

a moment of peace at Chanonry Point

there were bits...

Following on from a woodful of stories, last week dropped me into a whirlpool of schools and groups, classes and bits. Bits and bits and more bits.There were witches and monsters, tales out of old Scotland and relics of Robert the Bruce’s last meal. I have roamed from Auldearn to Strontian with Inverness in-between and have ended up in Dollar.

Inspired by Krindlekrax, in one class we created a crocodile of words:
Midnight and thunder and lightning,
A pebble-dashed log,

A creeping camera flash,
Spiky.
Pointed as needles,
Waiting like a cave.

We got the words down first as the scales then swallowed excitement in colour and shape and set one little group off creating their own crocodile….

We told stories of Old Scotland and made new Lost Tales of Old Scotland with the old woman who defended herself with a plate, with this very plate here, spinning it like a frisbee to slice the heads off her attackers. There were enchanted frogs, wonderful treasures, mysterious rooms and dangerous children…there were even a few aliens who came down and spirited away a whole class

And finally, I spent a day at the Three Lochs Book and Arts Festival in Strontian where stories unfolded between the mountains and the lochs

Thanks and delights to the artists and storymakers of Auldearn Primary, Dalneigh Primary, Balloch Primary, and the Ardnamurchan schools

precision drawing