Land and sky are close to indistinguishable. My light wedges a cone of visibility into the darkness in front of me, the surrounding world muted. It’s not night but nor is it yet day. It will be a few hours before sunlight will breach the western horizon. A smattering of stars sparkle in the silence and Orion hunts above the shallow valley. The screech of a buzzard pierces the darkness. A hemisphere of light far ahead expands slowly to expose the shape of the skyline. The light strengthens moving closer, the edge of land sharpens and then disappears as the veil of light drops to two concentrated spots of car headlights. The sound of an engine grows nearer until it passes me a few moments later and I am plunged back into the almost dark. The moon is full and bright and casts silhouettes of trees to my right. Moonlight snags on mist in the dips as the air I breathe cools briefly. A silver vapour trails cuts the sky diagonally. Gradually the shine of the moon dulls until its surface makes itself visible. Day eases into the sky to my left and the world starts to colour itself in.