A black horse beneath a black sky

[glenatron]

A good weekend, all told- mostly dedicated to horsemanship- yesterday I rode Othello again, a little further around the school and without Lou right beside us for reassurance, which was fantastic. Today we spent a while with Othello, working on picking up his feet, which he hates, but is apparently much easier to do politely if someone gives you tasty pony treats when you pick your feet up nicely. Never let it be said that bribery doesn't work.

This afternoon the weather was quite unusual and it took a while to realise that the reason the bands of high cloud looked so dark was that they were not cloud at all, and were instead smoke from the oil depot fires in Hemel Hempstead, which must be happening about 70 miles from here.


Othello crosses his field beneath the high smoke, banded like cirrus clouds, but dark.

It's hard to believe this smoke has travelled so far.

The sunlight had an unusual colour to it as well, seeming weak and watery even by the standards of the season.

I may be wrong about the smoke of course, it could just be clouds of roiling darkness out of London, in which case I would expect a beam of eldritch green light to start pouring from the Telecom Tower at any minute, anouncing the terrible march of the dark legions from Minas Moorgate...

Comments

[shiva-matimbres.livejournal.com]

One does not simply walk into Mount Plesant. It's black gates are guarded by more than just Townies. There is evil there that does not sleep, and the Great Eye is ever-watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly!

fellowship of the chavs

[planegate.livejournal.com]

hey i know these stupid young hobbbit chavs who may uptake the task, he would blend in well with there burbry banners scarves held high... they need a name...