Notes on the Walk and a Recollection.

The first thing I did when I set off down the lane tonight was have a small sneezing fit. It was caused by the imminent change in the weather, no doubt. It’s set to turn colder, windier and wetter here, and that sort of change always affects the upper part of my body in one way or another. In the process, I realised why I hate sneezing so much: it’s the fact that it doesn’t give you a choice.

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There’s a big village not far from here – 3½ miles by road, about 2 miles across the landscape. It has street lamps and a minor league football ground with floodlights, which were on tonight. Together they lit up the misty atmosphere to quite a height, and the glowing atmosphere infused the road surface and verges with an eerie glow of their own. The night continues to surprise me with its many moods.

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The lighting at M’Lady’s abode was super little-and-low tonight. Maybe they’re all out carousing somewhere. Maybe they’ll wake me up when they roll back at four o’clock in the morning, hooting horns and singing ‘Ten Green Bottles Standing on a Wall.’ I think I just went through a time warp.

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I remembered while I was walking that it’s the Ides of March today. I remembered 15^th March 1995; it was the night I ‘lost’ Sheona McCormack. It snowed heavily that night, and after the snow softened to near-slush, the temperature plummeted and the slush turned to cratered ice. I walked Sheona home at 4am, trying to tread carefully because every footfall sounded like the report of a shotgun and I was concerned about disturbing the neighbours. The full moon was at her brilliant best in the clear night sky. Sheona stopped to admire it. I wasn’t in the mood.