Damp Churchyard

I signed on at the job-centre this morning. The woman I saw looked both like a penguin and someone who has worked in the job centre since the 1980s, despite the fact that she couldn't be older than 25.
Afterwards (not even 9:20am!) I thought that I might go to the churchyard down New Church Road and do some drawing. Over summer it is wonderfully over grown, and like some relic from a Victorian M.R.James-esque ghost story.
I walked around the church. There was a damp, unpleasant air about it all. No benches, and hanging from the trees, monstrous crab-like spiders (shades of M.R.James again... The Ash Tree?). A group of two old men and women on the other side looked deep in discussion.
I headed down the beach instead, thinking to get a coffee from Mrs Bumbles and draw on the stones.
The sky soon clouded up. Thick banks of grey like oncoming depression. Cold drops. Maybe it would clear up? Heavier and heavier. I cut back up onto New Church Road, tried to shelter under trees. Watched the cars pass by, the muted light of October and came home.