Whilst out for a stroll on New Year’s Eve, though a mist was rising in the dim twilight, I spied a cloaked and hooded figure standing still and silent amidst the local playing fields. The fields themselves were land once part of the Boreham estate, and there are scraps of regional lore which claim that the locale is a ‘thin place’ where Edward Boreham - probably the most infamous scion of that lineage - once performed strange rites, and made petition in an unknown and barbarous language to the black gulfs of space…and whatever he believed dwelt therein. There are other, more furtive rumours which suggest that such petitioning did not always remain unanswered.
On taking the above photo, the distant figure appeared to notice my presence at the edge of the fields, and subsequently began moving towards me in a slow and horribly stilted fashion. Needless to say, to avoid any possible confrontation with this unknown individual, I hastily vacated the area.
