A Stalk in the Dark

Alone in all the world, or so it seemed, I watched mists fall onto rivers,
into valleys, like a ghostly ectoplasm. Hard rutted ridges stumbled feet,
Iced over puddles creaked but took weight.
Trapped bubbles scurried from beneath my boot. Starlings murmurationed
to the ground.
Hoarfrosts needles whitening boughs, gleamed in the moonlight. Orange
tinged clouds, canopied those cosseted in hearth and home.

Night cries signal watchfulness, wariness. Denizens of dykebacks fearfully
puff their feathers. Hunters eyes wink and flash in the moonlight. A palpable
uneasiness pervades the night.
Hide and seek, "��Mother natures law,"�� some will die so others may live.

I lit a ciggy leaned on the five bar gate, blew the smoke out into the cold
night air. Funny how things are different at night; sound will carry, glow of
the fag, worst the stink of baccy.
That's what will give old Reynard his best chance. Still me with my tweIve
gauge beside me, will be alive in the morning; unless these things kill me.