It was a dark night …

Yesterday evening I took a walk down to a neighbour’s house with one of the dogs for a cup of tea and a yarn. I stayed slightly longer than I was expecting and did the mile or so return trip under a moonless but star filled sky. It’s easy to forget how dark and quiet it gets in the countryside, especially when there are no streetlights or housing estates for miles. The cattle have all been taken in given the sodden fields, and the birds had long given up on the day, so the only sound was my boots and occasionally the dog’s claws on tarmac when he wasn’t rooting around in the long grass between the roadside and the ditches. The lane is lined by tall, ivy-covered ash trees that lost their leaves in the last week or so and it was barely possible to see my feet let alone a few yards beyond. And the dog simply vanished except for the slight tug every now and then on the long lead. The only thing to guide our direction was the expanse of stars visible through the branches above. We only passed three houses on our jaunt, one long abandoned, entropy letting nature creep in and smother the crumbling structure in ivy and weeds, the other two letting out weak light through unlined curtains. There was something magical, yet slightly spooky, about our little adventure and as the winter draws in these night time escapades will no doubt become a regular experience. I have to admit I’m looking forward to them.