A Guardian’s Reflection: Before the Winter Gate
The quiet step between November and the long night of winter.
The last week of November always feels like a threshold, not quite the old year, not yet the new one. A thin place where the air changes and the world seems to pause before turning the page.
The Guardian walked that line these past days with the dog at his heel, frost on the grass, breath hanging like smoke. There’s a certain weight to late November, a sense that something is gathering. Not heavy, just expectant.
Maybe that’s why this time of year invites reflection…
or maybe it’s because another birthday approaches, and with it, the reminder that we only get so many winters to put our mark on the world. Whatever the reason, the turning of the season made me stop, breathe, and listen a little more closely than usual.
Because next week, we open December with the new chapter: The Weight of Stories — a tale about what we carry, what we inherit, and what we pass forward. A story of trust, burden, and the strange truth that some stories are heavier than steel… and others keep us standing when nothing else will.
Before we step into that chapter, I wanted to pause here — between the months — and speak to you directly.
The Weight We All Carry
The Path of the Guardian was never built from dramatic victories or grandstanding. It was built from the small, unglamorous choices:
showing restraint when anger would have been easier
standing your ground without needing the last word
offering help when you were exhausted
walking the dog in the rain when it felt like the world was closing in
listening instead of judging
trying one more time
These are the stories that don’t make noise and yet shape everything. December’s chapter explores that truth. How stories grow. How they cling to us. How they bend us.
And how, sometimes, they save us.
St Andrew’s Light
My birthday falls on 30th November, St Andrew’s Day.
St Andrew is:
the patron saint of Scotland
a guide for travellers and wanderers
and, by tradition, a quiet force who stood beside giants without ever needing to be one
He is also deeply tied to the North, to rugged coastlines and salt winds — and that resonates with me, because my dad’s family is from the Orkney Islands, where the North Sea shapes everything. St Andrew’s Day has always felt like a nod from that ancestral direction. A reminder of where I come from, and the quiet strength of the people who shaped me.
So as we step from November into winter, I think of St Andrew not as a martyr…
but as a crossroads.
A moment to choose who we will be for the next season of our lives.
The Citadel Fires — Opening the Doors
Next weekend, on that winter threshold, I’ll be opening the Citadel. For transparency, this is a paid tier. I will keep this low cost – price point below what most people ask on Substack and if you know me, you know how I operate: charity, fair value, and never cashing in on people.
So, this is not a hard sell. Not a push. Just an invitation for those who want to walk a little deeper into this world. Inside the Citadel, paid members will find:
Full Enoch’s Well stories
For those new to it:
Enoch’s Well is my other major writing project — a supernatural, funny, eerie, warm-hearted series set in a pub on the Wirral that behaves less like a building and more like a character.
Each chapter reads like an episode of a TV show: mystery, humour, monsters, grumpy regulars, hidden rooms, and that strange feeling that the world is much stranger and kinder than we think.
Guardian resources
Including the NLP-based audios I’ve used with clients for years — quiet tools for:
confidence
stillness
sleep
breath work
emotional reset
These will be built out across 2026.
Notes from the Edge of Reason
My series of Fortean, paranormal, and strange-history essays that are playful, curious, sceptical, respectful and explore everything from ghost lore to cursed relics to British oddities.
In short:
If the Guardian is the path, the Citadel is the fire you sit beside once you’ve walked a little further.
To mark the moment, I’ll be releasing a special St Andrew’s Day Enoch’s Well tale next weekend, a one-off chapter that you won’t need any background for. A story steeped in northern folklore, old saints, odd visitors, and the quiet magic that only winter brings.
A small gift for those who want to see what lies deeper in the Well.
For Now…
For now, we stand here together on the November threshold.
The dog stretches, the frost cracks underfoot, and the light has that pale blue softness that only late autumn carries. In a few days, the winter gate will open. A new chapter, new stories, and new warmth against the cold.
Until then:
Take a breath.
Set down what you no longer need. Carry forward what matters.
December is coming. And there is much to tell.
And One Last Thing…
Whatever grows from here — the Citadel, the deeper stories, the odd corners of Enoch’s Well and the winter mysteries we wander into — the Path of the Guardian itself will always remain free.
The tales of the Guardian, the dog at his side, and these reflections that follow each chapter… they came from a place of service, and they’ll stay that way. If you’ve found comfort, strength, or a bit of stillness in them, that’s enough. That is the whole point.
The Citadel is simply an extra firelit room for those who want to walk further.
The path itself is open to everyone.