We are walking along the quiet lane that runs through the woods; the afternoon is gloomy, overcast, it feels much darker than it should for this time of day. It’s also cold, as I exhale I can see my breath and it’s the first time in months that my hands have felt this cold.
Occasionally cars approach, their headlights shine ghostly white, another indication of the premature dusk. We step aside and wait as they drive by.
The dog decides that she wants to get off the road and take the well-trodden path through the woods, I silently agree and follow her into the twisted trees.
Initially, the only sounds are our footsteps crunching and snapping the twigs underfoot and occasionally the scrabbling of grey squirrels jumping from tree to tree. A little later rain can be heard falling, oddly it cannot be felt. It creates a gentle tapping sound as it hits the dry ground. After a while I realise that it’s not rain, it’s hundreds of dry leaves falling from the trees.
I start to think about what it would be like to see a killer clown suddenly step out of the gloom and stand silently on the path ahead. The primary colours of the clown costume and the savage malevolent mask would look completely out of context. I think I can understand how this could be a frightening experience for some. The path eventually takes us out of the trees and back onto the road that will take us home.
I have to admit, I am secretly relieved that I didn’t bump into any killer clowns lurking silently in the woods today.