Strolling To Serenity.

It was a cold and clear late December day.  The final flickers of the sinking sun cast shadows on this peaceful, tranquil neighbourhood.  The view from my bedroom window filled my mind with thoughts of serenity.

Upon the top of the hill, is a wonderful place, a place I soon would go.

Behold, the place upon the top of the hill.  Westwood High School, Leek, Staffordshire, a magical school, a school of dreams, the school my son attended.

It was early afternoon, on a cold and foggy Christmas Eve.  I strolled the grounds, gazed at the clock tower and felt at peace with the world.
I walked alone, alone, yet content,   The cold wind howled through majestic trees.  The snow crunched beneath my feet.  This was my sanctuary, a place that nurtured my happy thoughts.
I heard in my mind the singing of a thousand choirs and the laughter of a thousand children.  This school, this enchanting school, this school of a thousand hopes and aspirations, had taken me under its spell.
One walk, one spiritual walk.  This Christmas Eve was a day I would remember, forever.
It was getting dark. Down the hill, off in the distance, I could see the twinkling lights of Leek. It was time to leave and reflect upon a perfect day.                                
                                                                                                                    

I headed back down the hill.  I turned around to take one last glance at the alluring beauty of that special, so very special place.  I had been strolling to serenity.  Serenity beats strongly in my heart.