Was this the ghost of Coseley Moor?

LIKE a spider’s web of mystery, I attempt to unravel this story, so please take hold of the thread ...

Just an ordinary day in summer, you know what I mean – all the colours of the paving slabs are comfortingly the same. Nothing is unusual in your quiet part of the world.

Warm sunlight filtered down, as if it was a luminous starfish suspended high above. I turned the corner at the top of the road and walked almost to the top of Oak Street, until I stopped to listen to the swaying grasses that were enjoying themselves in the mellow breeze.

Whispered

They whispered to me, “come hither ...” and as if hypnotised, I stepped through a small opening divided by a low rustic fence, that looked like it was waiting for a pony to jump over it and trot around Coseley Moor. For that was where I was – this beautiful green handkerchief of wild flowers and dots of buttercups was Coseley Moor.

The magnetism of the sun and the golden breeze led me further in. I trod gently, almost as if I might hurt the grass, and there it was ... a shining red fox. It immediately looked me in the eyes with piercing charm, all in a moment, I thought had it been white, it could have been a polar bear guarding an ice berg, or perhaps a swan, majestically set upon an emerald green river. Or was it the pony, tripped on ahead?

This red fox seemed like a statue, fixed to the ground, almost like a cardboard cut-out.

We were both startled. I gently stepped backwards, and went on with my day.

Gradually the clouds crept into the night, until it grew dark. I looked up at the moon and I heard a church bell chime, twelve midnight tolls.

But wait a minute ... the church bells never chime at midnight. So was it the antics of the Coseley Moor fox, that had climbed up onto the church roof? Or was it the ghost of Coseley Moor, echoing in the rustling grass?

Elaine Hickman-luter, Dudley