Day 180

Wednesday 16 September

I’ve been sat here next to the dog wondering what it is about this time of year that unsettles me so.

I’ve been for a walk, the usual one, about three and a bit kilometres. A circuit around our local lanes and paths. On my way home just beforehand the sunshine was smothered by a thick, milky-grey blanket of cloud. At this time of year and at that time of the day, the light level drops considerably. That also means the length of walking light is also instantly reduced.

The breeze picks up, the temperature drops and my senses prickle. I realise I’m not helping my situation by reading back to back ghost stories at bedtime, but it really is quite unnerving.

The wind-swung branches play short squeeky notes as they rub against each other. At one stage, whilst on the home leg, there are three different sounds from three different directions around me. It’s also darker then.

The corners of my eyes wait to catch a shadow of a dark figure, that I know isn’t there. Crooked shoulders, no features under his black, sack-cloth hood, water dripping from the outstretched fingers. Things crawling inside. That dark figure that isn’t actually there.

I think much of this is down to the transition between recognisable seasons. Weather is mixed, quick changing; warm safe days, cool breezy nights. Nights that are lengthening. Even spiders prefer to be indoors at this time of year.

It’s a time of general unease. Nowhere is safe. Almost everyone is a scared about what might be coming; some more than others. The fact that some aren’t scared, scares the rest. The world doesn’t feel particularly safe at the moment. The virus is still there, in the periphery of our vision, shadowy with no features. It can’t be erased and we can’t see it but we all know it’s there.

And all this as nature moves us out of summer and in to autumn. So, I conclude that this time of year is always unsettling but this year is particularly so. I’m going to read my book now, it’s the lesser of two scares.