Mist over the water meadows ...

After breakfast one morning, unsettled by reading Printer's Devil Court, I walked out of the house - I made my way to the river -

Mist filled the valley - the new sun was still low in the sky - I thought of Tolstoy's evocation of the field of Austerlitz before the battle - 

I breathed in the chill air - I stood upon the bridge, gazing downwards - there were deep pools here, the lair of eels and pike - 

The water meadows were silvered with dew - 

I had entered a silent pristine world - 

I forgot those thin outstretched arms, those blank eyes -  

08.00

September 2 2014

East Stoke