shrouded

Insubstantial

A cold, dank mist smothered Galway today. There were none of the usual markers of morning, noon and twilight, just a constant grey tone that collapsed suddenly to darkness in the evening.

It was the kind of day that offered no incentive to venture outside, but the dog needed her walk, so in the afternoon I braved the woods.

It was still, muffled. The thick mist suggested much and illuminated nothing. A rook cawed intermittently throughout my walk, there were occasional bangs – fireworks, or a gun – but otherwise it was utterly silent.

The woods were eerie and mysterious, and I thought how easy it would be to conjure up watchful, wicked folk in the grainy edges of my vision.

I returned to my car, filmed in mist, and touched my hair – it was drenched with dew.

I was glad of my home, with its warmth and lights, and shook off the damp before I crossed its bright threshold.

Best to leave it outside, tonight.