In a ghostly cloud

The weather yesterday was uncompromising.  It started off drizzling.  In the afternoon it poured, and then at about 6 it stopped raining but the hills over the estuary began to vanish, the water faded to grey, the folly disappeared and then, when I checked, the hill to the right of the house, as well as the council houses along its foot, had all vanished too.  We were literally sitting in a cloud.   I walked down the slope to my garage to take a couple of things down, in shorts and a jumper, and it was weird – the cloud was damp but everything was warm, and I could feel it on my legs and face without experiencing any real sense of it actually touching.  It was like being tickled by a friendly ghost.  A couple walking up the hill slowly emerged from the silver-grey and seemed startled to see me with box of weed killers under one arm and paint tray in the other hand, and they paused and watched me vanish into the garage.  They seemed to find it all as surreal as I did.

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