At the moment I am on holiday in a lovely little village called Chapel Amble in Cornwall. The holiday let is a converted Methodist Church. It’s a beautiful building which has been very tastefully updated. However, the building has a side to it that I find a little earie. It creaks.

Just like a hot car cooling on a summer’s evening, this building creaks. It creaks a lot. It creaks first thing in the morning. It creaks in the middle of the night.

The Cornish sea in February.

My conclusion? The house is alive. Does this apply to this building alone? Is it because of its past life? Does it contain ghosts? Is the wood it is partly constructed with alive? Are the trees crying? I’d like to think there is an organic element to the building. I certainly feel that it has some sort of soul.

In the meantime, I will enjoy lying in bed at night listening to its voice. It speaks to me.