Eveening Stroll to a Life

A damp clinging shroud of grey hang over the evening like heavy blanket. I made off up the road to the forest gate and a cinder track beckoned, a slither of brightness leading on into the shadows of beech and oak. At a pounding pace my boots cracked and crunched the ground. Through the dingly dell, all dark and myterious into a forest meadow, bright. The forest ridge rose before me as the light began to falter. A tiny shadow hopped across my path. My eyes shot side to side for the pond from wwhence it might have come. The screech of owls some distance through the tangled groundcover and dark canopy. There is a clopping in my head now as the day grew dimmer. I stop. Was that a galloping horse coming round the bend? No perhaps the sound of my own heart. I tromp onward and upward ever more loudly. A snuffle or a whinny to my right. That horse, for sure? Or perhaps there are deer? A large toad hops away. It is really quite dark now and only the snaking shimmer pathway and the sliced opneing in the tree cover along this way allows me to progress. Sweat trickles down my brow as I reach the top. In the distance I hear the traffic of the main road. Is it far? Ort a long way off? Does thisd path go toward it? Where will it cross the road. Now it is pitch? Do I go back along the trusted route? Or back along the road? Right and right agian? Or left and left? Decsions need to be made as I reach the trunk route. Bright headlamps scream intermittently from each direction. A string of threee. Then four from the other way. A single. My eyes sting at the brightness and then we are cast into deepest black. In moments there is enough light from a distant car, or enough dark to see a narrow rough pathway. I go left. This is dangerous. Its dark. There is no paving and barely enough light to see a rough intermittent track. 15 minutes of troubled staltering dodging of traffic and the bright yellow of the roundabout can be see. Drps of rain start to fall. Forst one or two. the a brief pitter patter as splashes hit my tee shirt and face, still sweat dampened from the climb.
At last back to human life. the rain starts heaviliy now. Well a pint wouldn't be too harmful. A cold beer on a warm evening. In any case I can stop in the light and find my raincoat in my bag. The beer slides down very well as I sit outside in the evening storm under the shelter of the eaves.

Lightening dashes acroiss in front as I make my way down the hill back to the car park. I never did take that rain coat out. Perhaps I was enjoying becoming wetter. I kept a check on how wet. The rain was not heavy. Perhaps being damp means that you dont notice rain so much. Leaving the light once again meant it didn't matter, much. Bright flashes now more regular lit the way in intermittent bursts. I was glad to fins the car. Glad to be alive.