Some while back I used to join up with a couple of friends a
few times a year to go to gigs. The problem
was that we all lived miles apart so we had this convoluted way of meeting
up. I’d drive down from Suffolk to Pete’s
house 50 miles away, then he’d take us to South Mimms motorway services to meet
Tim who’d driven down there from Northants.
Then Tim would chauffeur us into London to the gig.
So, getting there was fine.
And having a couple of decent gig buddies for company was absolutely great. The part of the evening that really got to me
was that third leg of the journey back at the end of our night out, the one where I had to drive that last bit home, alone through the early hours along mostly deserted country lanes.
Weary and frequently cold but not wanting to put the heater
on in the rattling old Polo in case it sent me to sleep, that drive always
seemed twice as long as it had been outbound.
The landmarks by which I calibrated my journey all started to blend into
one. But worse was the effect of my tired
and over-active imagination. I had to fight with the more ridiculous
fantastical fears that lurked in the back of my mind but which, in these dark
and lonely conditions, gathered their own energy and jostled for space right up
at the front, doing the stupidest things like turning lightning-struck
trees into petrified witches, the shadows of road signs into gallows and
kerbside shrubs into eerie, hunched over figures. I can't tell you how many times I wondered why someone would be crouching motionless by the verge in the middle of nowhere at 1.30 in the morning. ...
I never came across that lunatic axe murderer or the ghost of a headless horseman (of course I’d have told you by now if I had, it’d have been far more interesting) nor had an experience like Morrissey did on Saddleworth Moor. but by the time I arrived home it felt like it had taken
all my strength to stay focused on the road and the radio and the promise of a
warm bed at my destination, without thinking I’d witnessed something terrifying along
the route.
Country lanes and empty fields are indeed beautiful on a sweet Summer
afternoon but why is it that after midnight they transform into something far
more sinister?!
Happy Hallowe’en….
John Atkinson Grimshaw - the master of a spooky moonlit scene
I love the pics you've posted, C. I'm drawn to mysterious, gloomy, moody, atmospheric art of the late 19th, early 20th century. I'm going to have to look for more of Grimshaw's work. They're certainly perfect for your spooky post on this Halloween eve.
ReplyDeleteP.S. Would you add a new link to my blog in your blogroll (if I'm not being too cheeky?) ;-)
Hi there, good to see you. Great that you also like John Atkinson Grimshaw's paintings (yes, he was late 19th Century) - I find myself getting completely immersed in them, they are so full of atmosphere that I could look at them for hours and get lost in them, though have yet to see one 'in the flesh'!
DeleteNo problem at all to add link, will check that shortly and do so.
I just tried to do it but it said it couldn't detect feed... could you check and update if needed? - and I'll try again later :-)
DeleteHi C,
DeleteThanks so much. I've fiddled with the feed and it should be o.k. now.
I re-read the "Oxford English Ghost Stories" and "Night Terrors: The Ghost Stories of E.F. Benson" a couple of weeks ago and his paintings are sympatico with the stories.
You might be interested in this site:
https://www.johnatkinsongrimshaw.org/
The link will be much appreciated - sorry for the inconvenience.
Thanks - hopefully all ok now and thanks for the link, excellent!
DeleteThe door bell rang; and rang. The door was knocked; and knocked. All night. But I never left my post. ' The shop on the corner sells sweets', the (imaginary) post it note stuck on the garden gate read.
ReplyDeleteCan I come out from under the kitchen table now?
I hope it wasn't that bad...! Luckily here, living on the outskirts of this place, at the end where the houses dwindle to a dark unlit road, on Hallowe'en we are only disturbed by the whistling of the wind around the windows and the leaves rattling against the door. At least...I think.....
DeleteGreat post. I remember, as a much younger man, walking the four miles home after a night out, along pitch-black country lanes, and somewhere, right in the middle (so equally far from anywhere safe) becoming acutely aware of the sound of munching...
ReplyDelete...it was so dark, it took me a while to realise there were sheep in the field next to the lane, and they were chewing grass, a noise that seemed disproportionately loud in the still, cold night air.
Ah, but they may have been vampire sheep....
DeleteThat's easy for ewe to say...
DeleteBaaah!
DeleteWe love Halloween and spend days decorating the house and decorating and filling small packets with treats.... Last night we sat outside in costume and handed them to 650 small children between 5PM and 7PM and a jolly time was had by all!
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a teenager I had to walk home from the bus a mile through a wood on a very dimly lit path,( I can't beleive my Parents let me do it!) however the lure of a good time on a Friday night outweighed the terror that I would feel for those 15 minutes as I ran, as fast as Friday night shoes would allow, between the bus and our front door.
Wow, 650?! And aww, the little ones must have been ecstatic, it sounds like a proper treat for them and no tricking for you either, very sweet!
DeleteAs for your scary woodland walks home as a teenager, I completely get that too and did much the same - and not even a mobile phone, different days! Quite exhilarating in its own way but I certainly wouldn't do it now! I sometimes walk home alone from the pub about half a mile away when I meet up with a girlfriend, there are houses all around except for one short section next to an open field, only a few streetlights on one side and the other side is just a big dark void....I get quite the adrenalin rush!
Great moonlit pics - Perfect post for Halloween (although I know I'm a bit late to it now). I'm curious now as to which bands you went to see on these epic (logistically) jaunts to the city. Great excitement outward bound but not so much fun homeward bound as you say.
ReplyDeleteLike CA, we had a pretty great Halloween as our neighbours threw a party where they decorate the inside of their garage with all sorts of spooky decor and fire up the BBQ. All the local kids are invited to drop by and they get to try all the old-fashioned "guising" pastimes like bobbing for apples and rummaging in the mysterious box! Shame that for so many people nowadays its a night to put out the lights and draw the curtains.
As for dark nights, I used to work in a country house hotel in the summers when I was young - Having always lived in a village I forgot that in the depths of the country, late at night with total cloud cover, it is pitch dark. The imagination certainly runs riot doesn't it and like for Martin, the animals that seem totally innocuous during the day take on a whole new persona. More of a moo rather than a ewe for us though!
Re. the bands, by this time in my gig-going history not much variety as the main catalyst for the three of us getting together was that we were all really into one particular artist and so made it a thing to always try and see him when he was in the UK - American singer/songwriter Joseph Arthur. It was more varied than you might think though as sometimes he performed solo (with his loops), sometimes he painted while playing, other times he was with his band, once even with his then girlfriend Juliette Lewis, also a very prolific songwriter so you got something different and new every time. And of course other support bands or acts too so for a while was a great thing to do. Now I just couldn't do that journey again like that and I've not been into his latest material for a while. Ah, all good things come to an end.
DeleteSounds like to do Hallowe'en properly you have to do it in style and the way you (and CA) embraced it seems great - not being hassled by savvy kids but doing it all the traditional way and just making it fun. The happy memories I have are of dressing up in home-made stuff, yes the sheet with the eyeholes or a witches hat made of black sugar paper, no-one would have thought to *buy* a costume. Can't believe the amount of tacky crap that gets made and sold for it now...
So right about the animal sounds of the night. How about foxes? They make the most chilling human-like screams in mating season, like something straight out of a Hammer Horror!
I cn relate. Living far from big cities, it can be a challenge going to gigs and other events. I drove home late at night after a Halloween film at the cinema. A one-off screening of Suspiria that wasn't shown in my local area. Queen's Don't Stop Me Now on the radio (plus having the window ajar) kept me awake!
ReplyDeleteYes - radio on and window ajar - absolute musts. As I've got older - and wear glasses now - I find it harder and harder and, to be honest, I just won't do any long-distance night driving now unless I absolutely have to!
DeleteOne of the reasons I've always loved living in the 'sticks' is because of the way everything is transformed after sunset. When the totally familiar begins to feel edgily alien. When the friendliness of daylit lanes gives way to a less certain winding route. I don't drive much after dark, now. But when I do, my imagination still slips into overdrive.
ReplyDeleteSo true. The difference in how it feels once the light goes is remarkable. And I'm glad it's not just me with the over-active imagination!
DeleteI hope the gigs were worth that amount of effort! As for the landscape and darkness, we get a lot of both around here. We have a mountain (this is Wales, so hill to the rest of you) right behind our house and I love to watch as it grows darker and the mood hangs over it. I'll admit, I've never ventured up it at night but just listening to nature's sounds once the darkness has dropped over it is quite an adventure. When I walk my dog in the dark around here I often imagine figures in the shadows and see movement where there probably was none. When I was a kid back in Bristol we had a bit of wood (not much but we liked it) which we would dare to walk through at night. I did it on my own a few times just to see if I could. It was interesting pushing oneself into the total blackness alone and thankfully I never bumped into anyone else. Not sure what I'd have done if I had! Wouldn't try it now.
ReplyDelete*Mood = Moon, sorry.
DeleteThe gigs were worth it then but to be honest I don't think they would be now - I wouldn't do that journey again at that time of night through choice any more, that's for sure.
DeleteI love the thought of the mountain behind your house (and I think the 'mood' hanging over it is as credible as the moon doing so!). As for your scary woodland, were we braver when we were younger? It seems we must have been. The mere thought of bumping into someone - or something - in the pitch blackness scares the life out of me...