On the streets outside the park, it was a dark afternoon of remorseless frozen rain and slush, utterly wretched. Just inside, it was eerie and strangely beautiful.
The faint streetlamps brought to mind the tales of the will-o'-the-wisp, a ghostly creature of flickering light that leads travelers astray at dusk.
These creatures seem fond of leading the unwary toward bogs and marshes. Mine brought me to the side of the lake, where not a lamp flickered in the gloaming mist.
I haven't been getting to the park every day by a long shot, and strange to say, this little walk was exhilarating, in spite of the ankle-deep slush.