Darkness is rising

This is one of my old stories but very appropriate for Halloween 🎃😊

Someone had the decency to unlock the sun for an hour yesterday.
It is hard to imagine now when rain and hail are tumbling down. I was about to end my walk as the sun went down and dusk took over. I had some concerns because of the growing darkness.
Should I walk through the bog in the darkness or across the cemetery? Strange stories passed through me as I thought of the cemetery.

Once my brother took a short-cut across a cemetery late at night:

He entered our living room, pale with fear. His age in mind the experience must have been fierce. He was a teenager, and at that age it is inappropriate to be afraid. He was sure that he had stumbled upon a corpse on a small church path. My parents were sure that there was another explanation and they calmed him down so he was able to fall asleep.

Early the next morning my father went to the cemetery with my brother, and they did find a man. He wasn’t dead, but lacked a place to sleep. That finding brought my brother’s mind in a state of relief, but the cemetery was no longer an option for a short-cut.

An artist I once knew worked in a cemetery where he used an old gate house as a studio. He told me lots of stories one evening over a bottle of wine. I have never been able to forget this one in particular.
We sat by the fireplace and actually the weather outside was very similar to the weather in his story. He began the story describing how terrible tired and exhausted he was:

I’d been working late every night with the aim to get my last painting done for the opening. One night it became very late. Sometimes I get so tired that I have to pull myself together to go to bed, and I wasn’t even home yet.
So I turned off the lights and locked the door. When I went out in the storm and rain to find the car, I almost lost my breath, for it was bitterly cold.

A short stay in the wind combined with a break caused me to listen more attentively. Yes, there it was again! Help me, help !!!

It was difficult to determine the direction. The rain, the darkness and the wind created shadows where there usually were open spaces. After a while I decided to walk into the darker section of the cemetery until suddenly I saw a strange thing.
From one of the open graves prepared for the next day funeral I sensed a movement. Carefully approaching I could see two hands cling to the edge of an open grave.

At this point in his storytelling, he made a little stay and I could swear that there was a shiver running through him. He continued: I found myself in a state where my adrenaline whizz around in my body. I didn’t know whether I should turn and run, or just let myself be completely frozen with fear because I was nearly there already.

The rough terrifying voice tore me out of my trance by screaming in my ears: Heeeelp! Help me! I saw the man down in the grave. Two big scared eyes midst of all the mud, and a pair of hands which reached out like a child who wants to be lifted up.
I stood and gazed at him. It felt like hours. Then I recognised him. He was a slightly tipsy gentleman who often take his lunch on one of the benches, if not every day and in a liquid form.

Close to the grave hang a water hose. I tied the hose onto an iron pipe and handed the other end to the man in the grave.
The exhausted man was rescued from the cold grave, and after a drink and some dry clothes, he told his story about how he fell down in the grave by an accident.

But I was still considering which way to choose. I looked at the bog and the growing darkness and my thoughts went to Frodo, Sam, and Gollum when they went through the Dead Marshes on the way to Mordor.
I chose the cemetery 🤞😊

Endurance

“Come what may, all bad fortune
is to be conquered by endurance.”
~ Virgil

Towards a Golden Tunnel

October Light

“In October, a maple tree before your window lights up your room like a great lamp.
Even on cloudy days, its presence helps to dispel the gloom.”
~ John Burroughs

A Wooded Path in Autumn

Hans Andersen Brendekilde was a Danish painter, 1857–1942.
Title: Wooded Path in Autumn, Date 1902. Painting: Oil on canvas.

I once saw a grass snake at the size of an over dimensional bicycle tube in one of the small paths.

The snake was enjoying the sun, but withdrew smoothly into the bush. A breathless moment it was.

There are several wooden bridges in the bog. They become slippery like soap during the winter months.

Always an exciting moment to climb a bridge 😊

A Strong Northeastern Wind Today

Autumn is closing in …

My October is clear crispy air, sunshine and the trees fireworks. It’s the trees gushing thanks for this year. October is fabulous.

“October had tremendous possibility. The summer’s oppressive heat was a distant memory, and the golden leaves promised a world full of beautiful adventures. They made me believe in miracles.”

~ Sarah Guillory, Reclaimed

Shaken and Stirred

Fierce gusts made it difficult for me to keep my balance – on the ground 🤣

But some surfers had a tremendous play with waves.

Several were captured by the wind and hang for a moment what looked like 3 to 4 meters above the sea.

By the Sea

By the Sea by Emily Dickinson is one of my favourite poems:

… And he – he followed close behind;
I felt his silver heel
Upon my ankle, – then my shoes
Would overflow with pearl …

What a great day it was today. Lots of wind and whitecaps ❤

My favourite kind of path

It may take a long time to walk along winding paths, but nature is close and you never know what is hiding behind the next turn.