Waking up to moonlight
Winter's here. I woke up at 7 AM this morning, but instead of the sunrise illuminating the inside of my room, the moon shines radiant over the forest, silver light glowing on the frosty lawn outside.
I love this weather. Freezing, crisp mornings, with only a few high-flying clouds to disturb the crystal calm of the winter sky. The moon shines too bright to look at during the night, and in the mornings, the forest is filled with layers of swirling mist. The bracken's dying back, too, and now you can see the herds of deer every so often as they make their way through the heather. On the hillsides to the east of the Tunstall Road, the young birch saplings form a shimmering purple fuzz over the burnished copper of the dead bracken. It's magical; you have to see it for yourself to truly understand.
My writing really takes off at this time of year. Summer's a dead time; weather in the Sandlings is kind of odd, with long weeks of blistering dry heat during the summer months. Winter's the time for me, when the vegatation falls back to reveal the shape of the land once more. Everything feels more right, somehow, during winter.
I'm starting to get philosophical, so I'll stop. Okay ... time for an update on Cold Witness. I'm on page 44, which means I should be over page 100 by the end of the week (with luck). Foyle and his men have already encountered the first batch of unidentified lights over the Cold Witness array, and I'm about to write the scene where Oliver Elmwood's subplot is introduced.
I'm really excited about the upcoming chapter entitled THE RENDLESHAM INCIDENT. I've managed to get my hands on a copy of the Halt tape transcript; the tape recording that Lt. Colonel Halt took during the investigation on 28th of December, 1980. This is going to be one of the events in the climax of Cold Witness, and although I'm changing Halt's name to Holton, I'm going to stick to the events depicted on the tape as much as possible. Jesus. If I get this right, this is going to be eerily authentic.
(Oh, by the way, three more prisoners escaped from Hollesley Bay yesterday :) )
Winter's here. I woke up at 7 AM this morning, but instead of the sunrise illuminating the inside of my room, the moon shines radiant over the forest, silver light glowing on the frosty lawn outside.
I love this weather. Freezing, crisp mornings, with only a few high-flying clouds to disturb the crystal calm of the winter sky. The moon shines too bright to look at during the night, and in the mornings, the forest is filled with layers of swirling mist. The bracken's dying back, too, and now you can see the herds of deer every so often as they make their way through the heather. On the hillsides to the east of the Tunstall Road, the young birch saplings form a shimmering purple fuzz over the burnished copper of the dead bracken. It's magical; you have to see it for yourself to truly understand.
My writing really takes off at this time of year. Summer's a dead time; weather in the Sandlings is kind of odd, with long weeks of blistering dry heat during the summer months. Winter's the time for me, when the vegatation falls back to reveal the shape of the land once more. Everything feels more right, somehow, during winter.
I'm starting to get philosophical, so I'll stop. Okay ... time for an update on Cold Witness. I'm on page 44, which means I should be over page 100 by the end of the week (with luck). Foyle and his men have already encountered the first batch of unidentified lights over the Cold Witness array, and I'm about to write the scene where Oliver Elmwood's subplot is introduced.
I'm really excited about the upcoming chapter entitled THE RENDLESHAM INCIDENT. I've managed to get my hands on a copy of the Halt tape transcript; the tape recording that Lt. Colonel Halt took during the investigation on 28th of December, 1980. This is going to be one of the events in the climax of Cold Witness, and although I'm changing Halt's name to Holton, I'm going to stick to the events depicted on the tape as much as possible. Jesus. If I get this right, this is going to be eerily authentic.
(Oh, by the way, three more prisoners escaped from Hollesley Bay yesterday :) )
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home