We have just one street light on our lane – at a road junction at the top of the lane. The street light, shining through the trees and thick fog, threw an eerie light onto Croft Hill as I descended with the dogs after an evening walk. The fog had thinned into a mist by the time that I returned with my camera and tripod an hour or so later, but there was still a certain spookiness about the shadows. Earlier I stood at the top of the hill and watched as the fog rolled in across the countryside. There was a black hole where I knew distant lights should be, and as I watched closer lights progressively disappeared as the fog blew in from the west, until the village at the foot of the hill was lost, leaving darkness in all directions apart a white fluorescence glowing through the fog on one side of the hill, from the quarry lights below.
