“I moved silently across the garden, silvered with moonlight, my feet barely touching the ground. I brushed past fern and tree, following… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
Now you look here. All your father ever dreamed of for you was to do something you loved in life. He didn't… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
“I fell into a restless sleep in which my dreams carried me away over misty valleys and moonlit woodlands toward a fairy… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
“With the rumble of the waterfall in the distance, I slipped into sleep and dreamed of a red-haired girl holding a posy… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
“With my arms wrapped around Rosebud, I dreamed of heather-topped hills and sleepy valleys and a pretty woodland stream where dragonflies danced… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
“As her dreams intensified, the red-haired girl became so real to Olivia that she found herself absentmindedly sketching her image during the… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
“It was on the warmest days when I saw them most clearly, days when the sun dawdled high in the sky, tinting everything with rich gold and amber as long shadows played lazy games of hide-and-seek among the trees and ferns. Like the wildflowers that decorated the riverbank, my fairy friends grew more abundant as the summer went on, multiplying… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share
“They appeared to me like a thin veil of mist, translucent, almost- not quite there. But for all their misty peculiarity, they were as clear to me as the minnows in the shallows and the foxgloves on the riverbank and the butterflies fanning their wings. They flitted from flower to flower, as swift as dragonflies, sometimes glowing brightly like a… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share
“That night, I fell into a deep, travel-weary sleep, lulled by the familiar sound of the waterfall beyond the window. I dreamed of the beck fairies, a blur of lavender and rose-pink and buttercup-yellow light, flitting across the glittering stream, beckoning me to follow them toward the woodland cottage. There, the little girl with flame-red hair picked daisies in the… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share
“If something’s worth doing, then it’s worth doing properly, even if it is only offering a biscuit with a cup of tea.” — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
“Her father had once told her that water has a memory; that every rock, every stone, every grain of muddy sediment leaves something of… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
“She'd always imagined an autumn wedding: russet leaves and black velvets and dancing to Fred Astaire.” — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
“Never leave yourself open to regret Grace. We can only make a decision when we know the choices we are faced with. If we… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
“I moved silently across the garden, silvered with moonlight, my feet barely touching the ground. I brushed past fern and tree, following the lights… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
“Yorkshire's autumn was as great a gift as Yorkshire's summer. I loved watching the rusting of the leaves while the dales mellowed to shades… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
Now you look here. All your father ever dreamed of for you was to do something you loved in life. He didn't care about… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
“There is more to every photograph than what we see-more to the story than the one the camera captures on the plate. You have… — Hazel Gaynor Copy Share Image
