I've been doing a lot of internal reflection of my family history lately, stories and memories of stories that have been passed down to me through my maternal family have been surfacing.

Close enough by walking distance from my grandmother's house there was a small spring, the road she lived on was named after it, redwell, the holy red well, a sacred spring dating back to the 11th century.

I was maybe 8 at the time, and my head was full of princesses and knights of legend, I daydreamed up a whole high fantasy storyline for the well.

Thanks for reminding me of this memory.