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bunnIn the mist hanging over the thick conifer forest opposite my window at the moment, I can quite clearly see a very large, scary looking face. It has big heavy features and a grumpy expression. If I look straight at it, it vanishes, but I can see it looking at me very clearly out of the corner of my eye over the top of my screen as I type this.
And this morning I took the dog to a place where we go probably about 3 times a week, and I swear that there were twice as many little paths through the gorse as usual, and I kept feeling as though a door was just open behind me, which is a very odd sensation to have in the open air, I can tell you. I am tempted to go back next week in sunlight and make a map: those paths *must* have been there all along. Surely. I went along one of them, and it just stopped. Half way through a gorse bush. No more path. And I'm really not going to write down the stuff that came into my head at that point, because it would sound like fiction, and as fiction it would have been entertaining and rather fun, but there and then it was not fun at all somehow.
For the first time since moving here, I really do feel as though I'm living on top of an ancient battlefield. Which I am, though I don't suppose that has anything to do with it. Mist is always creepy stuff, but I don't remember it being so disturbing in other places I've lived.
Tonight I'm going to watch american telly and eat cheesy chips and be extremely prosaic and sensible.
And this morning I took the dog to a place where we go probably about 3 times a week, and I swear that there were twice as many little paths through the gorse as usual, and I kept feeling as though a door was just open behind me, which is a very odd sensation to have in the open air, I can tell you. I am tempted to go back next week in sunlight and make a map: those paths *must* have been there all along. Surely. I went along one of them, and it just stopped. Half way through a gorse bush. No more path. And I'm really not going to write down the stuff that came into my head at that point, because it would sound like fiction, and as fiction it would have been entertaining and rather fun, but there and then it was not fun at all somehow.
For the first time since moving here, I really do feel as though I'm living on top of an ancient battlefield. Which I am, though I don't suppose that has anything to do with it. Mist is always creepy stuff, but I don't remember it being so disturbing in other places I've lived.
Tonight I'm going to watch american telly and eat cheesy chips and be extremely prosaic and sensible.
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That is spooky ...
Date: 2005-03-01 05:44 pm (UTC)As for the paths in the gorse they could just be game trails that are coming back into use as animals feel things budding and greening up generally.
I wondered facetiously at first galnce about making a comment about V****rmort manifesting, but thought a bit better of it on reading the rest. Still if it makes you laugh that's a good thing. Spooks don't generaly stick around near a belly laugh (or so Michael bentine thought).
Re: That is spooky ...
Date: 2005-03-01 06:35 pm (UTC)However, if I was seeking spooks I could happily find them in the 18th and 19th century tin, copper and arsenic mines, which run all under the woods and the hill, and probably the house too.
Though I'm sure there is little of the UK that isn't potentially spook-infested once you start to dig. Hyperactive imagination....