| It
was a bright clear morning as I drove across the moors towards Kielder, but when I
came to the last hill before turning towards Bellingham I saw that the whole of the valley
of the North Tyne was filled with mist. I made the turn and within minutes, I had crossed
from the clear bright light of the moors into the grey gloom of the valley, as if I had
suddenly broken through into a different world. |
Later,
I stopped on the lakeside at Kielder and watched the shapes of the trees appear through
the mist. It was still, but not silent. I listened to the sounds of the early morning,
sounds which seemed to come across the water from far away. I concentrated on listening to
the tiniest and faintest sounds and imagined who or what was making them. My mind was
concentrating on the far distance when suddenly, right in front of me, a stag broke
out of the trees, crashed through the bracken and disappeared into the undergrowth. |
