Every now and then I like to be up with the larks and steal a march on the day ahead , just as the sun is rising the air is cold and the shadows are long …
The best days are usually accompanied by mist and lashings of photographic optimism / curiosity !
The tourist trade describes the village I inhabit as one of Englands “most haunted” villages , once you have that thought planted in your head a creative mind could & should be forgiven for “SEEING” things …
A few years ago I was walking the dog on the banks of the river when I was struck by the sight of footprints that appeared in the frozen grass heading in the same direction as me , these footprints were the result of the hard hoarfrost that covered everything in a silvery glow in the weak winter light that was emerging in the dawn , the mists and the glow gave this day a real ethereal feel …
I made a few pictures of this and that and hugged my Old English Sheep dog now and then , he was both a valuable source of heat and companionship on this memorable winters morning , as I crouched down messing with the dog I noticed that the footprints in the frost were still with us and looked identical to the imprints from my boots that were behind us, they were the same in size , stride and tread …
This was becoming a bit odd , coincidence ?
I decided to follow the foot prints deliberately and see where this frosty , cold trail led , I was genuinely curious now …
After a few miles I began to breath heavily , I had walked further and faster than I had originally intended , my exhaled exhausted breaths hung in the frozen winter air like unfulfilled dreams …
I eventually recovered from my exertions and pushed on , still fighting for breath , creating bad pictures and implausible explanations for the strange footprints , just as the first snow of winter began to fall heavily , new fresh footprints were still appearing ahead of us in the crisp fresh snow , they looked like mine , like the ones behind us in every way but that was impossible …
I could not understand how “MY” old footprints could appear , the land was flat all around , we were the only ones out walking on this strange winters morning ?
I remember thinking I need to get ahead of this and decided to test the reality of this scenario as I approached a “T” junction on the path ahead , we turned left towards the old church even though I really wanted to stay right on the riverside path , surely I would rid myself of these mysterious footprints now , you’ve guessed it , the prints continued on the path to the church , I stopped , messed with the dog and thought about going back to the car , this was becoming seriously concerning , my bouncy boisterous Old English Sheepdog was quiet and uncertain , I’d not seen him like this before , he loved being out in the snow , his mood had changed …
I put him on the leash and continued towards the old derelict church as the snow and the imprints continued …
I approached the lych-gate of the old church with apprehension , fear and disbelief , the footprints continued all the way to the lych-gate before stopping suddenly !
On the other side of the gate “My Foot Prints” vanished , they were gone , thank god !
My relief was short lived as I watched “My Foot Prints” being replaced by new Imprints of what looked like four men walking in step , in a ceremonial formation , they appeared to be slowed by the burden of carrying something , I won’t say what I thought they might be carrying …
The imprints of eight slow walking feet , made by four invisible “men” were being created before my eyes , this unhurried ghostly walk continued for what felt like a lifetime , through the sadness of the overgrown church yard , past the ancient weeping willows …
Just then the tracks stopped , dead !
The locked , abandoned , derelict church door appeared to be the end of this “hallucination” but it was not , the “ formation of feet ” continued walking again through the ancient medieval church door …
At this moment the echoing silence was broken by the sacred incantations of long lost souls fading on the blue mists , disappearing into a onwonted , unwanted grave …
I tried to gather my thoughts but my thoughts would not , could not be gathered , I could not make sense of events , what had just happened ?
Where had the trail of blood in the snow come from , was my dog injured , was I losing blood ?
Were these events real , surreal or a “Shaggy Dog Story” ?
Suffice to say that “My Foot Prints” appeared once again and led us back through the blood stained snow , back to where I thought I had parked the car …
I heard a strangers voice in the distance …
Hello , Hello , can you hear me David , can you hear me …
I heard whispered conversations that did not belong to friends , I heard the voice again …
Hello , Hello , Hi David , your going to be okay , the dogs fine , Hello , Hello , David your in ICU , your going to be okay , the dogs fine …
I opened my eyes , “You’ve been in a accident , you came off the road at “Old Church Junction” the voice said …
Just then the warmth of the Pethidine ran through my veins doing what Pethidine does …….
I heard the voice one last time , Hello , Hello , Davi ………………….
I began my fight for life …
This story began on the morning of Old Hallows Eve , I was discharged on Christmas Eve and reunited with my Old English Sheep Dog on Christmas day …
The Old Church was converted into luxury flats back in 2012 , no one stays there very long nowadays , they have all become holiday lets , villagers say the occupants hear incantations…
I couldn’t possibly comment , I find that sort of thing hard to believe but I know what I know …
