Another Country Diary #7
With 👻hauntings👻
28/10
Everything which is not green is some shade of brown or grey. The grey of the tarmac on the lanes seems matched precisely to that of the sky, the wet sheen reflecting what dull light remains. The fields are a rich chestnut brown, sometimes tinged with the green shoots of next spring’s crops. The mud yields easily beneath the tread of our boots. We see a dog walker on the other side of a wide field, a figure in black rain clothes under the vast grey skies like a phantom in an M.R. James story dipping in and out of perceptibility. We see a rider standing astride a horse in another field, bright dot of high visibility vest, the horse seems to be going nowhere. They just stand in the field, the horse’s head nodding. By the time we get back to the village the windows of the cottages are beginning to light up. There is wood smoke in the air.
As dusk comes on we hear the fox barking again. Ceci rushes out to shut up the hens. It barks for about five minutes as…