Blackened

It's all a bit dark right now. Autumn dying into the onslaught of winter. The clocks falling back and whatever way you slice that little idiosyncrasy, gaining an extra hour of daylight in the morning doesn't compensate for losing it in the evening. Especially for those of us in the North. Dark months ahead.

It's Halloween too. Some people refuse to accept it as a viable 'holiday' with it's encumbered traditions. In my mind a lot of our modern 'holidays' are a mishmash of religion, paganism, tradition and these days, consumerism. Take your pick, celebrate one, ignore another but don't rain on someone else's parade. There's a bowl of jelly eyeballs and 'severed fingers' next to our front door tonight but these advertising companies are barking up the wrong tree if they think I'm Christmas shopping already. Festivus anyone?

Things are dark and dreary on the hill right now too. Yesterday I climbed the hills close to my home, skirting the reservoir, notorious in years gone by as the final resting place for the unwanted babies of Bergen and sadly, more recently, other unwanted lives. Up through the deserted stone houses and into the cloud. Black underfoot. Grey all around me. Howling wind. Pouring rain. Pondering the lies we're sold. You're not guaranteed to stay dry in Gore Tex. We don't need pockets on our sleeves for GPS units. Membranes in fleece suck. I don't need a hood retaining tab. But I learned that it's ok to change your mind about thumb loops...