Outside in the darkness there is a quiet sense of waiting. The air is still, heavy with water, not raining, but like the finest cloud. From somewhere distant the sea breathes, in and out on a shore of sand, drawing patterns that flick and change with the turn of every tide, every wave.
Heaven's lamps are shrouded in clouds. The dogs chase a wild red fox, over dark fields and hedges. In the distance a dog barks a wish to join in the chase. Wild things snuffle and grunt in the hedges. The birds stir, uneasy in their sleep.
The chase ends, fox escapes and the dogs return home to the warmth of a new made fire.
In the distance the farm dog still barks.