Stormy afternoon
12th August
Sunken lanes like those of Selbourne make for evocative dappled walks on sunny afternoons, but tunnels of pitchest black by night, the forms of old boundary beeches and hollies vaguely emergent as darkness more solid, twisted forms of sorcerous curiosity.
The evening stunning, though, and work too quick to pause – yet amid silence and flowering light, soothing and peaceful despite the pace.
There were few birdcalls in the wind and late season, but moths and bees aplenty flitting and buzzing among the heather’s scent and nectar.
By the time I returned home in the completeness of nightfall, it was raining again, hard.