One thing I’ve learned from this recent habit of taking
nocturnal walks is that they’re almost as varied as the daytime ones. The main
feature of tonight’s ramble was the heavy, starless sky and the strong, gusting
wind. And what that produced was a rare treat for the imagination. It was fun
to watch the rhythmical swaying of the skeletal trees and the co-ordinated swinging
of their fleshless branches. Only the pizzicato strings were missing, and they
were easy to imagine.
And I saw that movement in my peripheral vision again –
twice. This time I didn’t switch the torch on, but searched the darkness of the
hedgerows and verges, trying to spot some shimmer or other evidence of a
presence. Nothing, I’m afraid, but I did speak in the hope of persuading it to
show itself. One of these days, maybe.
Tonight’s mantra: I’m only as mad as I think I am.
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