For about second (although it seemed like several) the darkening sun and the slowness of time was mesmerising. The haze still hung in the valley below. The willow still breathed not a whisper. I looked down the field to the trees near the road to see if there were any long shadows there. There weren’t. The dimming seemed quite local. Almost as if there was a sharp stab of “dark light” projecting itself at my sister and me. As if we had been caught in some sort of spot-light which was really a “spot-dark” (if such a word exists).