A Lone Light in the Shire Night.

My new night walk route takes me down Bag Lane. That’s the one that has the main entrance to the splendid Old Rectory at the near end, and at the farther end it joins two other lanes. To the left is Main Road (or Main Street, I don’t remember) which goes uphill to the village proper. To the right is the sunken lane called The Hollow, which has had many a mention on this blog. That leads downhill between steep embankments on either side, topped with mature trees which make it quite dark in places even in full daylight.

Standing at the junction of these three lanes is an old telephone box, the cast iron sort painted red, with a heavy, sprung door which I remember finding difficult to open as a child. It was taken out of commission about three years ago because nobody ever used it, but the light still functions automatically.

So there it stands, lonely and untended, having no purpose but to serve unwontedly as a beacon of light in a dark corner of the Shire. It has a slightly surreal quality about it; it seems to be waiting for the people to come back.

I think I might go and stand in it one night, just to cheer it up. Hopefully, it won’t become possessive. Hopefully, it will let me open the door to get back out again. A few years ago it would have become a character in one of my stories.