A Night Ride – Bexhill
One of my favourite poems as a child was Windy Nights, from A Child’s Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson. It tells of a marvelling child who peers out his window late on a wild and windy night and observes a rider – a horseman in this case – bound on some mysterious midnight errand. Smuggler? Courier? Spy? Who knows. Ever the romantic, I loved the way the poem conjured the adventure mystery and urgency of travel in the small hours. And all these years later, I still do.