Competition Twenty-Five Shortlisted: The Bewitching Hour by Clare Middlecote

We push through the gate into fields and are greeted by a mackerel sky. Shoals of violet and pink swim above us, reflected in the lighter patches of Willow’s brindle coat, until she is a sleek tiger made of candy floss.

Serenaded by blackbirds, unseen in trees and hedgerows at our side, we tread across the flat grass path that winds around the landscape. A buzzard’s shrill call alerts us to its presence and Willow’s long snout rises as she sniffs, leaving trails of smoky breath in the chill morning air. 

Suddenly, she pricks her ears, the left curling inwards towards the right. Her nose dives towards the ground and her long legs kick into gear, paws picking up pace as she follows the trail. We have done this many times and I know the quarry she seeks. I keep my eyes steadily on the distance. Understanding she’s so focused on following the scent, her other senses are temporarily abandoned. And as we round a corner, beyond a broken gate, I am rewarded. We stop. I fold her lead around my arm, making it shorter and hold it tightly against my thigh. 

The young buck stands before us, burgeoning antlers crowning his golden head. We gaze at each other – bewitched. Neither of us wishes to break the spell. Willow lets out a trill, a quiver of excitement running from her end of the lead to mine and I gently shush her.  Too late, the spell is broken and the deer flees across open fields, performing flat footed jeté until out of sight. 

I pat Willow lightly on the head, give her more slack – and as we walk towards the rising sun, I wonder what further magic awaits in this bewitching hour – my favourite of the day.

Clare has recently begun writing again following a thirteen year break. She works part time at a Hospice, a flying school and makes fine gemstone jewellery. She finds her inspiration in nature whilst exploring with her trusty hounds.

Photo courtesy of Clare Middlecote

@wildwanderswithscout