Dear Dee,
If you wander down to the edge of Hale Village on a breezy afternoon, you might just catch the scene I see from my favourite perch. The lighthouse stands watch as it always has -white against the changing skies, steady as a heartbeat - and beside it, the friendly giant, the Childe of Hale, comes to visit us.
From up here on his shoulder, I can see everything: the river curving for miles down the Mersey, the rooftops of town in the distance, and the visitors below clambering up his arms and legs. One clings to his hair, another settles by his elbow. He doesn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, he seems to enjoy the chaos.
The lighthouse keeps its watch beside us, its red top love heart shining bright. It’s a little moment of Hale magic, where past and present meet again.
I’ve always loved how, through illustrations and stories, legends don’t have to stay tucked away in history books. They can wander. They can stretch their legs. They can let children climb them like trees. And this gentle giant - well, he’s part of everyday life here, in a village that still remembers its tales with warmth.
Perhaps that’s the heart of it: the way Hale holds its history close. The Childe of Hale isn’t just a tale told in classrooms or a statue passed on a walk. He’s our companion, our guardian, a gentle giant who still stands tall in the imaginations of the children who grow up here.
And from my little perch, I can tell you - he’s exactly where he belongs:
visiting the lighthouse, surrounded by curiosity and laughter,
carrying the next generation on his shoulders.
Warm wings,
Robin