A blue sky, although it's still very chilly, and even the matchstick men in the old orchard seem happier, sunshine it makes everybody feel good and it's just what the doctor ordered even if you are really a bit of deadwood.
The highlighted silhouettes of these branches always look strangely cheery in sunshine but come a grey and damp foggy winter's day they do seem to possess a kind of malice and look almost animated. Particularly when you look away and then look back quickly, then they seem to have moved. Closer.
I've come to the conclusion that I must have read too many ghost stories and fairytales when I was at an impressionable age.
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