Orion over St Anne's Well Park

White-cold air of a February night. Listening to Current 93's 'Of Ruin or Some Blazing Starr'. Watching the trees down Cromwell Road huddled in the orange street lamp glow. Pretending I was staying still, and the trees were walking past me. The dark geometery of houses, blank windows allowing no light to spill. Closed curtains like eyelids hiding sleeping eyes. Turn right down Somerfield Road. A flickering lamp stops me. Pink hues, a stillborn sentinel. Fluttering morsecode message in this sudden pool of darkness. Look up. Notice the stars, so cold they're almost blue. So many of them. A clear night, no clouds ('no wind, no rain' - words found in a journal kept by the Reverand Densham, a Cornish Priest who vanished shortly after). The constellation of Orion, hanging over St Anne's Well Park, an impossible equation for a formula never to be decoded, and Current 93 'I remember walking in the fields around York...'
By the time I reached home, midnight had turned.