Dark days

The horses are in the shadow of the enormous scaffolding and sheeting stucture that encases their burned-out stable, enabling a winter of reconstruction and restoration, whatever the weather. It is held to the ground by rows of huge water-filled plastic tanks - my wild guess is that each one is 5-10,000 litres; probably there are 20 of them. Imagine the engineering calculation that must have already gone into designing this temporary cover - any error could be fatal for people working inside it. I don't think work on the building itself has started yet; the design of that unique project must be even more complex. Human creativity can be awe inspiring

The horses glanced at me as I arrived at the gate, deciding almost instantly that I was of no interest, and returning to their hay. I only got a picture with heads raised at all because their groom was walking along a stone path on the other side of the field. They recognised the tread, just from its sound, and raised their heads in unison to assess whether either they were needed or a more appealing meal might be arriving. They spent just a few seconds working out that it was neither, before returning to their munching. Horses' minds are pretty impressive too

The picture is taken in almost darkness - hence the muted colours and indistinct trees. Much of the day has been low, thick, formless cloud and still air. I found it oppressive and disquieting. I found that I preferred being outside as the day was ending, when the deepening gloom felt appropriate and consoling. The forecast is for a succession of these dreary days. The shallow thought crossed my mind that the universe is responding to the baleful events unfolding across the globe - America, Palestine, Ukraine... add your own favourite example of human malevolence. "You want it darker?", wrote the dying Leonard Cohen, "We kill the flame"