This tiny figure clings to a fence outside a home. Are they on their way somewhere or escaping from something?

The intensity in their expression and that lifted hand suggests they have an important message to deliver, so maybe this is the miniature figure equivalent of Speakers’ Corner in London.

Who are their audience? What do they want to say? What will it take for one of the big figures (i.e., in this scenario, us) to listen and take action?

If you write or create something prompted by this idea, please send it in an email to judydarley (at) iCloud.com for possible publication on SkyLightRain.com.

I love how most families have their own in-jokes that tap directly to happy or weird and personal memories. In my family, one of these was my dad’s wildlife photos. Back in the days before digital cameras and the option to crop in, he’d come back from our holidays (mostly to South Wales and Devon) with a film full of anticipation.

Once the pictures were developed we’d spend ages trying to spot what he’d actually been photographing – in the midst of a clump of leaves there’d be a distant bird no one could hope to identify.

Sometimes we’d simply make it up: “Ah, I see you’ve snapped the rare lesser-spotted leaf mimicker! Extraordinary.”

This photo I took in September of a far-off cormorant reminds me of that and makes me smile.

What family quirks could you turn into a short story?

If you write or create something prompted by this idea, please send it in an email to judydarley (at) iCloud.com for possible publication on SkyLightRain.com.

I adore this bandstand in Buxton’s beautiful Pavilion Gardens. It’s the perfect place for a romantic liaison, to shelter from rain or simply enjoy the views. What promises have been made and possibly broken under its ornate domed roof?

Despite this one being installed in 1997, bandstands are such a gorgeously vintage idea that this one looks to me like a time travel device. Could stepping into it whizz your characters through aeons and eras, and deposit them in a time when sauropods or other herbivorous dinosaurs graze instead of Canadian geese?

Alternatively, imagine the person who warranted this bandstand as a memorial. It’s official name is the  Don Redfern Memorial Bandstand and Google tells me was a conductor, player and promoter of brass bands.

What kind of memorial would be chosen for you?

What story could this thread lead you towards?

If you write or create something prompted by this idea, please send it in an email to judydarley (at) iCloud.com for possible publication on SkyLightRain.com.

Whose paw is this, reaching through a gap in the fence between two neighbours’ gardens? The fur may look soft, but no doubt the claws are sharp!

Could it be a domestic cat, or something altogether wilder? Might it be something stranger  – a hybrid creature, or even a mixed up human with animal forelegs and feet instead of arms and hands?

Does the creature have a tail, wings, a nose that breathes fire? Is it a metaphor for things not being what they seem at first glance? Can you turn this into a work of satire or magic realism that confounds your readers’ expectations?

If you write or create something prompted by this idea, please send it in an email to judydarley (at) iCloud.com for possible publication on SkyLightRain.com.

This graffiti-covered slide is the last plaything standing in a local playground. The sight of it shoots Madonna lyrics into my head (This Used to be My Playground rather than Like a Virgin…) and makes me view this as a post-apocalyptic wasteland, or, at the very least, post-active humans.

I’m picturing a world where nature thrives without kids to play tag among trees and stay inside absorbed by virtual reality screens instead.

But what if one child found this abandoned slide and discovered the joy of that whooosh as they hurtle down its metal chute? If one child discovered the fun of this, could others be drawn by their giggles and cheers?

Or might you interpret this #WritingPrompt in an entirely different way?

If you write or create something inspired by water, please send an email to judydarley (at) icloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I might publish it on SkyLightRain.com.

I recently had the uncanny experience of scattering my dad’s ashes, so he now nourishes trees and other plants in places with glorious views.

Amidst the pale grit of his remains, I found a lone, twisted nail.

There are two possible explanations I’m leaning towards.

Either, this is a coffin nail the undertaker failed to sift out,

Or this is the unexpected proof that my dad was in fact a cyborg.

Either possibility could lead to an eerie Halloween tale.

What does your imagination tell you? What’s your emotional response to this writing prompt?

If you write or create something inspired by water, please send an email to judydarley (at) icloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I might publish it on SkyLightRain.com.

This flourishing greenery is sprouting near the gangplank of one of Bristol’s most notable vessels, the John Sebastian Lightship. where I’m co-hosting Writing on Water with poet Helen Sheppard on Saturday 22nd October (just one ticket left, but more workshops like this planned for the future!).

How have these seeds found their way into the wood of this boat? Where have they travelled from, and where has the Lightship carried them? What stormy weather have they withstood to thrive in this unlikely spot?

Could you use this hardy and persistent plant-life as a metaphor?

If you write or create something inspired by water, please send an email to judydarley (at) icloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I might publish it on SkyLightRain.com.

I spotted this bench at Buxton’s Pavilion Gardens. Along its top are carved the words: ‘Happy to chat’. What a simple and lovely way to encourage friendliness and counteract loneliness! I have to confess, I sat on it without reading the message, but as I’m almost always glad to have a natter, it wouldn’t have been a problem if someone mistook my intentions and joined me.

I don’t know if you can read it, but the bench’s words state that it’s paid for by Soroptimist International, which I googled to discover a ‘worldwide volunteer service organisation for women who work for peace, and in particular to improve the lives of women and girls.’

What a lovely thought! It sounds to me like a inconspicuous brand of superhero, spreading comfort and community.

What story ideas does this prompt in you?

If you write or create something inspired by water, please send an email to judydarley (at) icloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I might publish it on SkyLightRain.com.

How do you write about water, and harness its power in your words?

Does it trickle? Surge? Roar?

Is it hungry? Foreboding? Volatile? Reflective? Tranquil?

Is it a backdrop?

A playground?

A graveyard?

A symbol of climatic change?

A way to examine loneliness, or love?

Can you use it as a metaphor for a relationship on the rocks?

To explore mental health?

To furtively or overtly examine fertility?

What does the sea wash up, transform or leave behind?

Whether you write about a raindrop or an ocean, you can harness water as a powerful writing muse.

Taking place on Bristol’s Lightship from 10am to 3pm on Saturday 22nd October, the Writing on Water workshop with Helen Sheppard and Judy Darley will include writing prompts, generative exercises and an inspiration-gathering stroll on Bristol harbourside.

Tickets for Writing on Water are available here.

If you write or create something inspired by water, please send an email to judydarley (at) icloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I might publish it on SkyLightRain.com.

I have a fondness for Victorian follies. Imagine having so much money that nothing pleases you more than to spend it on a building no one can live, work or create in? Well, possibly you could do all three, but with gaping windows and nothing to prevent gale winds whistling through, Solomon’s Temple on Grin Low Hill in Buxton would not be the ideal spot to focus on anything other than the outstanding views.

I also love the fact that this Grade II-listed, 20ft-high edifice is so blatant about it purposelessness that it’s actually defined as a folly. While some claim it was named afterSolomon’s Temple in Jerusalem, others say it replaced the ruins of a tower built by Solomon Mycock, a local farmer and landowner, and is named for him.

Other intriguing details include the fact that it sits atop of Bronze Age barrow, where several skeletons were unearthed when it was built in 1894.

When I visited, the interior was puddled with cow dung. A winding staircase leads up to the tower’s viewing platform.

Imagine being the person who commissioned this folly. What prompted their need for this hillside statement? Who did they want to impress?

Who designed it? What criteria were they attempting to meet?

Any why build it on top of a Bronze Age burial chamber?

So many directions you could rattle off in from this curious construction!

If you write or create something inspired by water, please send an email to judydarley (at) icloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I might publish it on SkyLightRain.com.