At 11am I was walking home from the shops. I stopped and sat on a convenient park bench just as the church bells started ringing the hour.
When they fell silent, so did I. I just sat and thought about the beauty around me and how it’s only like it is because of the sacrifice of other people.
I wasn’t alone. A chap walking his dog had stopped on the path and, like me, was in silent contemplation.
I thought about the soldiers I’ve researched and the stories I’ve read. I thought about the stories I tell.
The bells started again just after 11:02 and they rang out as if in memory of all of them; every single one.
I continued on my way home wondering why people have such a problem with a peaceful existence.
