Chronicles of Clover Dale - Prologue

Chapter One - CloverDale Farm

George Dale and his wife Elspeth loved their farm, CloverDale.
Surrounded by mountains in every direction, and a deep, dark blue lake to the West of their farmhouse, they couldn't have wished for anything more beautiful.


Set on a slight incline, they had a bird's eye view of everything around them, the perfectly ploughed fields and the thick, lush woodlands that spread wildly around the rising hills.


Their farm was aptly named, because of the field of brightly coloured clover that Elspeth saw, whenever she opened her bedroom window every morning.


It was a prosperous farm, that had been in the family for generations, providing organic supplements to the neighbouring towns.
Root vegetables and grains, were George's speciality.

He knew and understood the agrarian rules of farming. Always rotate your crops, make sure at least one field remains fallow, to allow nutrients to flourish in the rich soil.

Dutifully, he did that, year in year out.


Theirs was a truly magnificent farmhouse.
Crops were in such an abundance, that George was forced to build more silos to keep up with demand.

It was a happy place, where everyday, George would plough the fields and Elspeth would bake.
The only sadness was the fact that Elspeth couldn't bear children.

This didn't become a problem until after the great disaster.

As explained earlier, George stuck rigidly to the rules of agriculture, rotating his crops every year.

What he didn't prepare for, was a very bad summer.
Heavy rain cascaded down the mountains, causing the lake to flood, waterlogging all of George's ploughed fields.

It lasted for days, and by the time it was over, many crops were ruined, beyond repair.
And just when he thought it was all over, a terrible blight wiped out the rest of his crops.

No matter how he tried from then on, he couldn't regain his former glory, struggling to make ends meet.

It didn't help matters when Elspeth was diagnosed with the early stages of dementia.
He often found her, wandering around the barn, clad only in a thin nightie.
She needed round the clock care and that cost money.
In the end, he was forced to sell all of his lands, including the farmhouse, to cater for her needs.

The farmhouse was left alone, as it's structure was pretty sound.
But the rest of the land was snapped up by developers.

And so, CloverDale village was born.