The Tale of The Bosham Bell

A fiction story based around the folklore of the Tale of The Bosham Bell

A fish called Buck reminds the Bosham Bell. “The Viking raiders had stolen you from the church so we hear.”

            “Yes, and I managed to break free.”

A fish called Hen rewards the Bosham Bell. “You sank the Viking ship with your ringing, you’re a brave warrior.”

            “Well, we sank into the depths of the Bosham channel and when the monks returned to the church, that’s when the other bells, my bell friends, told them what happened.”

            “Hen and me, we were told that the monks went looking for you.”

            “Yes, when I was lying at the bottom of the channel, I saw hooks and poles reaching down to me from their boat.”

            “Buck and me, we were told that the monks got oxen to pull you up from the deep.”

            “True, and that’s when I saw the world with sudden clarity.”

            “We felt for you when we heard the oxen ropes had stretched and broke, didn’t we Hen dear?”

            “Yes Buck, and sadly you Bosham Bell fell back into the Bosham Deep.  How must you have felt?”

            “I felt terrible!  I kept ringing and calling as I fell back into the water.  But still, I’ve now made a home for myself down in this Bosham Deep.”

            “Hen, me and everyone else can still hear your muffled tones on still days which we all enjoy.”

            “That’s how I network with all the other bells.”

            “Buck, I’m going to ask Bosham Bell an interesting question.  Guess what season it is up above.”

            “The same as it is down here, summer.”

            “Gee Hen, Bosham Bell’s right.  How do you know?”

            “Well, the other bells tell me everything that’s going on up above.”

            “Buck, another question for Bosham Bell.  And even the century and year?”

            “Yes, it’s the 21st century.  Year 2025.”

            “Bosham Bell, your gentle soft ringing tones most certainly add comfort to the waters, don’t they Hen?”

            “Yes Buck, and the tones add flavours to the waters as well.”

            “O yes, our bell network certainly loves to add a bit of spice to the waters.”

            “Both Hen, me and the other fish know you started this lovely tuneful trend.”

            “And, Buck, me and the other fish see you as a brave warrior.”

            “The other bells tell me that and even though I’m underwater, I feel proud to have contributed to both bell history and bell culture.”

The Brighstone Dragon Tree

A stream of consciousness fiction story based around the folklore of the Brighstone Dragon Tree

The Brighstone Dragon Tree watches time go by.  “It’s now autumn and my leaves are changing colour.  I know I terrorised Brighstone village until Saint Tarquin, a knight, slew me.  That’s where I died from being a dragon.  My body turned to twisted oak wood where I now grow over Buddle Brook.  Many walkers and children stop to visit me and I find it fascinating how the appearances and sounds of the various people have changed through the different centuries.  Although the people’s Crusade hero, Saint Tarquin, fought and turned me from a dragon into a tree, he has at least given me a nice home over Buddle Brook, so I have to be thankful.  I remember on my final breath my body twisted into the shape of an oak tree and my roots anchored me to the earth.  I know I’ve lost my dragon status, but I do enjoy my tree status with all my lovely twisted branches that I find fascinating.  I terrorised Brighstone village because I wanted to be part of it, so instead, Saint Tarquin showed me the way and I know he had to be cruel to be kind, but he made me part of the village which was lucky for me.  Then not long ago, there was a violent storm which blew me over and my large, spreading branches supported me, while my roots re-anchored me.  Then from then on I maintained my stability with my close friends, the Buddle Brook and the birds as well as the rest of the Brighstone community who have made me one of them.”