Today in the Field.

The poor ewes were suffering today. As the lambs gambolled and tottered, those mothers which were bothering to move at all did so slowly and heavily, their breath short and panting. The heavy woollen coats they’re still wearing must be hell when the late April sun shines, and the cool nights must be blissful.

And while I was watching them I noticed something apparently watching me from the wood a little way across the field. It was a head, pale and hairless, with two black spots where the eyes would be and two smaller black spots where you’d expect to find nostrils. The more I watched it, the more I was convinced it moved. The mind does that sort of thing. I think it reasonable to assume that it wasn’t a head at all, but you never know…

(Imagine waking in the middle of the night and seeing such a thing looking back at you from the end of the bed - glowing in the darkness. Go on, dwell on it.)