The trees sat in a thin mist rising up from the pools. Moss making the paths slippery. Branches and twigs had broken off in the winds of the night before.
What walked out of that wood was not alive. It had risen during the darkness, disturbed by the roots of the trees. It looked out through the mist and watched for anyone passing close by. It waited without thought. Without intelligence, but with quiet patience. Darkness had started to fall again when it heard the sound of steps. Steady and strong. The steps of a man walking home through the wood. Taking a shortcut. As the moon brightened the pathway a figure lurched in front of him. And then they both sank down into the pool. Together forever.
Since todays prompt is beautiful I decided to draw a beautiful view of the Ukraine. So sad about what is happening. Felt pen drawing, #bandofsketchers. I love the mist coming down over the hills obscuring the pine trees.
I’m a member of the cloud appreciation society and I love the sky. When it is misty and the sky turns salmon pink, when there are dark storm clouds in the background and bright sunlight shines on the landscape in front of them. We see amazing lightening storms, cumulo nimbus, stratus, cirrus, mammatus, so many sorts of clouds.
I love looking up at the sky, looking at the stars and meteor showers or seeing a satellite tracking overhead. I’ve seen Jupiter and Saturn and Mars and Venus in the telescope.
A few views of the area near Etruria Flint Mill and along the canal towards Shelton. Then we walked along the main road back to our starting point. By then the mist was dropping down and fine flakes of snow had started to fall so I drove us home… At least we fed the geese and I had a short walk. That’s four walks in five days. A couple of years ago I would barely walk a couple of hundred yards. My friend has encouraged me and I’m starting to really enjoy it and feel a lot fitter for it.
Delivering a few presents today, the sky was grey and the clouds low, hanging over the hills in a misty damp blanket. I had the blower on in the car but it didn’t keep the moisture out. My glasses kept steaming up because I was wearing a mask.
By the time I got home I was cold and tired. But it was the furthest I’ve driven in nine months. A whole 24 miles.
Misty and overcast, branches and twigs reach out like witches fingers. Darkening mist twists and turns. Hidden eyes watch as the gloom deepens. Footsteps trail through the bracken. Water lies in droplets across the dead and dying wood.
She had seen light from the footpath. A cottage.. A campfire? What was there. Goaded by her imagination she stepped off the path. Feet tangling in blackberries and vines. She stumbled and the branches reached down….