Incredible sadness that falls over you like a shroud, chilling you and making your heart swell with sorrow. You can stare off into the horizon to find some sort of meaning or explanation and if you manage to cast it from your mind for a few minutes you did well to jump through it. But you will snap back into the now and realise that once again you are cloaked in this greyness. It’s always there; in the rich, warming glow of Summer, in the damp, tantalising beckon of Spring, in the sodden leaves and early darkness of Autumn and in the solitary chill of Winter. It’s always there. But then again, so is the horizon.