Who shot the Sheriff? Why stories matter

I was told i looked more ‘Woody’ than ‘Clint’, but let me assure you, i was the only true Sheriff

Twenty years ago, a group of small town friends gathered in a field for a Wild West themed party. At twenty years of age, it was a rather raucous affair. This weekend, older, maybe wiser, it happened again. Age has changed everyone: this time around, there were more children and dogs. Everyone turned up in an estate car or campervan. But there was still a fire, still a bar and still a Sheriff.

Wherever there’s a fire, there are stories: it’s in our DNA to create them, to share them.

In groups such as this, we create our myths: shared experiences and stories, written over time. The cast may evolve as friends come and go and families grow: some of the stories tinged with sadness, others filled with love, all shared over laughter and beer.

This weekend was a different field but the same theme: whilst our stories are located in time, we can recreate elements. We even recreated some of the photos of old.

Cherished memories reminisced. New memories to cherish. A story, co-created through lifetimes.