On an early winters night in 1964, soon after dark, a dense fog fell upon the Golf Course, leaving it visibly impenetrable. When the time came for me to head off home, I was extremely excited, and itching to leave, I wanted to prove I could find my way through the dark fog laden barrier, that awaited me. I was pumped up, full to overflowing with the thrill and expectation of a new challenge, and against the strong, and concerned advice of the Club Professional and the wily old Steward, I set off full of confidence.

The first part of the journey was easy, I simply followed the track that led from the Club House to the Groundsman's hut. Even though unable to see it, I confidently felt my way along the tractor rutted gravel path, but from here on it was to become more difficult as there were no clear-cut footpaths. Now well beyond the hut, I stood at the top of a long ridge, and it was at this point, the lay of the land fell away, descending over a series of inter linked steep hills and vales.

Shutting my eyes, I could visualise the tree lined fairways, gently rolling away below, and still brimming with self-confidence took the right-hand slope off the ridge, and with each step could feel the predictable drop of the land as it fell away before me, just as I'd foreseen.

With head held high, I marched on for some time, and eventually realised the steep slope had begun to level out into a gentle incline. It was only then I realised, that with no positive drop to guide me it was getting more and more difficult to judge my direction. It didn't take me long to realise I was wandering around in circles, when for the second time I came across the old Anderson Air Raid shelter, on the ninth fairway.

Surprisingly, this discovery did not perturb me, in fact it seemed more of a challenge than a threat. However, from now on there was a persistent voice inside my head, constantly reminding me not to take anything for granted. The inner voice told me to work my way more cautiously through the mist, as it knew the obstacle course that lay ahead of me, and the many hazards it contained.

During the many rounds I'd played on the course, plenty of time was spent getting in and out of its natural hazards and I recalled the drainage ditches and streams that criss-crossed its fairways. To compound the problem, that little bit more, the course was also littered with numerous ponds and small copses, not to mention the manmade hazards such as sunken bunkers and walled ledges.

It was when making my way, overconfidently along one of these walled ledges that my foot caught in the remains of an old iron gate, rusting in the grass. Suddenly, I found myself grabbing at the fog, but with nothing to hold onto I flew over the edge of the ledge, spiralling headlong into the parting mist. The next thing I heard was a splash and the water slapping my face, as my right shoulder entered the pond. You might be forgiven for thinking this was lucky, but unfortunately the water was quite shallow, allowing my head to hit the bottom, twisting my neck violently as the weight of my body followed me into the water. At this point my mind filled with a blinding white light, and I found myself floating around and around in circles. It was a bizarre feeling, to find myself flying freely, and soaring rapidly toward the sky, so fast that the distance between me and the earth grew quickly, leaving it way below. Twirling giddily, I saw a patch work blanket of fields below, spreading far and wide, passing by on their westward journey. Without the security of the earth beneath my feet, my mind is wandering like an autumn leaf, lost in a windy chase, until the scene below me is shrouded in a rounded quilt of spiralling blues and whites. Eventually, the all-consuming cloak of space, throws its arms of night around the crystal ball, terra-firma recedes to become just a tiny speck of light, before disappearing into a singularity. Now my eyelids are heavy, and as they close, I'm greeted by a welcome darkness.

I'm awakened from my slumber by the warm slobbering of a dog's tongue lapping upon my chilled cheeks, it's still dark, and as far as I can tell there is no sign of the fog. But, through blurry eyes, I'm just able to make out the face of the dog eagerly licking my face, excited by the signs of my awakening.

Gently easing the dogs face away, I say.

'OK boy that is enough, back off before you drown me in slobber.'

I'm startled when from the darkness an unfamiliar, but friendly voice calls the dog to heal.

'Leave him be Maisie, there's a good girl.'

Startled, I try to sit up, but am rudely stopped by a stabbing pain in my neck and head, matching my progressive movement. Wincing in response to the pain, I drop my head back. The landing is soft, which surprises me as it came to rest on a pillow of sweet smelling summer hay.

The voice spoke again.

'Now you take it steady me son, you av ad a nasty bang on yer bonce'.

'You were proper lucky me n me Maisie were owt an about, takin a walk or you'd be fish food be now!'

In a pained voice, I replied.

'Thank you, mister, thank you.'

Having no idea who this guy was, I had to ask.

'Who are you mister?'

'Ooh me?'

'Well, that depends on where or when I am!'

'Earlier today, I was the gardener, and now I'm the shepherd!'

God, I thought, that helps a lot.

Then it dawned on me, that we weren't outside, because it was just possible to make out we were inside some sort of barn. Straining my eyes, I could just make out that the roof rose to a sharp apex above my head. It was an ancient looking structure, formed from bare and twisted rough cut oak beams, which rested on larger, straighter beams, which spanned from one end of the room to the other. However, even though the structure appeared ancient, all the wooden beams seemed fresh and newly hewn. But, my mind was distracted before it could pursue that line of thought. My eyes cleared a little, making it possible for me to focus on a couple of scatty white Doves, perched on the beam directly above me. They rushed feverishly, back and forth across the beam, in tandem with each other, their heads nodding in response to each step as if agreeing with some frantic conversation. It was then I began to wonder why I wasn't feeling wet, having plummeted head and shoulders into the pond. My natural curiosity was returning, and I wanted to know who this shepherd was, so asked politely.

'I don't mean to sound rude mister, but cud you stand where I can see you, as I can't move me ed?'

The shepherd answered with a reassuring tone.

'Now you be patient young un, an rest easy.'

'I'm busy preparing something fer the pain, u's in.'

'An, you be sure to remember, everything comes to those who wait!'

With a degree of reticence, I replied.

'Sorry mister, it's just that I can't see anything from here, apart from the roof, those two daft birds, and you're Maisie's face'

'Mind you, what a pretty girl she is, with that lovely white face and the Zorro like black patch over her left eye.'

Without intention, I'd obviously hit the shepherd's soft spot, getting a prompt and an agreeable reply.

'Yeah you're right, she's a real beauty, an been wiv me since she were a small pup, she as.'

'She learnt everything she knows from her mother,'

'You should av seen her, she were the smartest, and most beautiful dog I've ever seen.'

'An, you believe me son, when I tells you, I av seen some wondrous dogs during me time serving the circle. Anyway, don't you be worry' in me lad, you'll soon be up an about, and feeling as right as rain'

As I wasn't getting any closer to seeing him with that tact, I decided to try and find out where we were by asking him.

'If I can't see you, can you at least tell me where I am?'

The shepherd replied with a pleasant sense of the obvious.

'You be in Thatcher's Hay House son, nice n comfy, ain't it?'

I pondered his reply for a while, thinking where the hell is Thatcher's Hay House, and what's this frigging serving the circle lark he's harping on about, and asked myself.

'Is he some sort of religious fanatic?'

I took a deep breath to calm my mind and reasoned that the Hay House must be part of Thatcher's Farm.

Using that same reasoning, I told myself.

'Surely that can't be true, it's not possible, it's nearly a mile away from the pond, as the crow flies.'

'And Jesus, I'm bone dry after falling head first into the pond.'

'And, I'm in a strange barn with someone I don't know, ooh won't let me see ooh he is.'

'Oh my God, I've got to try and find out a bit more about the man.'

Having scared myself sufficiently, I tried to probe a little further.

'I can't say I recognise your voice, and that's something I'm normally pretty good at.'

'So, I'm guessing that you don't spend much time at the Golf Club?'

The shepherd was laughing, as he replied.

'Now look ear young un, do I sound like the type of person that spends his time around a Golf Club?

I guess that question was rhetorical, but he carried it through anyway.

'None of them silly games are fur someone as simple as me, and anyway I'm too busy looking at'er me flock.'

'Watching over them takes me to all the time and places the circle allows.'

'This leaves me no time for such frivolous earthly trivialities.'

The answers do nothing to quell my curiosity, in fact they leave me completely bamboozled, and to be completely honest I was beginning to worry about my safety. I was starting to think that this shepherd may have a few screws loose, and then began to imagine him with a loosely held together metal head. This thought made me smile for the first time, since waking.

He was obviously watching me, and he caught me by surprise, when saying.

'Ah, that's a lot better lad, an you ain't a bad looking kid when you puts a smile on yer face!'

With a smile, he added.

'Something I said, were it?'

'No, no, I said trying desperately to think of some way to avoid a direct reply.'

'It's just that a funny thought crossed me mind.'

The shepherd was one step ahead of me and seized the moment.

'Don't be shy lad, share it with me, I cud do wiv a good laf me self.

'Are you sure, cus it was about you, you know?'

'If you can't laf at yer self-son, you be much too vain by far.'

'Now come on lad, out with-it!'

'But, it ain't that funny.'

'Lad, don't poison the goose before you've cooked it.'

'An son remember this, these be important words you should bear in mind, and keep for future reference.'

As usual the words were all but wasted on me, falling on deaf ears I just ignored them and began my tale, carefully neglecting to include the bit about my safety.

'Well to be honest I thought what you were sayin, was getin barmier wiv every word you spoke, and that set me to finkin you ad a few screws loose.

'Then me mind got up to its usual tricks, an I could see you with this floppy metal head, lolloping around on your shoulders, and too make it even funnier I saw that all yer bolts was loose, and that's what made me smile.'

The shepherd gave out a little chuckle.

'That's quite an imagination you got there me lad, makin me look like some sort a tin pot Frankenstein.'

'I can see I must be scarin you a bit, but you've no need to worry, you're perfectly safe wiv me lad.'

'Good God, he's a bloody mind reader too, he knows what I'm thinking.'

The shepherd chuckled again.

'Ah, well I hope you're not disappointed son, as I'm not the 'Almighty'.

'I Can't just snap me fingers an make fings appen, and that's why it will be a few more minutes before I'll be able to fix you.'

I was totally confused, but somehow managed to relax, and slipped into a gentle doze, only to be awoken as a shadow crossed my face. Opening my eyes, I finally saw the source of the voice, the shepherd was now stood before me, and he was the friendliest looking old man my eyes had ever had the pleasure of seeing. The old man crouched down on his haunches, like some Russian Cossack, the smile on his face was infectious, and I could not help but reciprocate, by returning an equally warm smile.

Licking his lips, the Old Man said.

'This is a lovely bit of grog lad, lift your head up, n sup a little'

To help, he carefully placed his hand behind my head, taking its weight as he lifted it. As my head came up, the pain caused me to groan.

'Ouch!'

The Old Man placed the edge of a shallow bowl at my lips, and in an encouraging way he motioned for me to try some.

'Come on lad let's see if your man enough to swallow some of this.'

You would have been forgiven, for thinking we were familiar, knowing that even in my pained condition, I couldn't resist such a challenge.

'If you can drink it Old Man, so can I.'

'As they say.'

'Anything you can do I can do better.'

Without taking my eyes off the Shepherd, I slurped eagerly at the contents of the bowl. After his comments, I was half expecting a harsh bitter taste, but to my surprise it was a smooth tasty broth, and I consumed the contents of the bowl in three straight slurps. The Shepherd gently eased my head back on to the hay pillow, and I uttered a thank you before returning to a deep sleep.

'Thanks, that was delicious Old Man.'

He sighed.

'You're welcome son, now just rest awhile and let the grog do its work.'

As I passed into sleep I remember giving out a satisfied murmur.

'Mmm!'

My last memory was of the Old Man's friendly face, smiling down at me, and the Doves who continued their manic journey back and forth along the rafter.

When waking, I expected to see the roof of the Hay House looming over my head, instead I was surprised to find myself looking up into a Starlite night. There was not a wisp of fog was in my field of view. I lifted my head with caution, in anticipation of an agonising stab of pain, but my movement was faultless, and completely pain free. It didn't take long, for me to recognise where I lay. I couldn't believe it, it was the 12th Tee, and there's no way this was possible. The 12th Tee is at the very edge of the Golf Course, and only 50 yards from the Lane that leads to my home. The Tee is even further away, from where I'd assumed Thatcher's Hay House to be, and this could be as far as a mile and a half. Sitting up I looked back across the course, it was still shrouded in a thick fog, but here and in the homeward direction it was clear. I felt rejuvenated, and in one swift movement flipped myself, onto my feet. I needed time to rationalise what had happened and stood there motionless with my arms folded over my head and clasped my elbows.

This is my favourite thinking posture, doing so whilst talking to myself, is how I've managed to work my way through problems all my life.

'I'm bewildered, my memory is as clear as a bell, but there is no proof, who's gonna believe a word of it?'

'And right now, I'm finding it hard to believe myself, one minute I'm lost in the fog, and the next I'm falling into a pond.'

Waving my arms in the air emphatically, my rantings get louder, as I relive my most recent memories.

'And then I'm flying off into space, watching the world disappear behind me, and if that ain't enough, I wake up in a scene from the nativity'

'And before you know it I'm having supper with some strange old geezer, calling himself the Shepherd.'

'And, then 'Bob's you're Uncle', I'm laying here on the 12th Tee, bone dry, and fighting fit!'

I take myself by surprise when at the top of my voice, I yell out across the fog bound Golf Course.

'Come on Shepherd, don't leave me like this.'

'I'm completely at a loss, and unable to explain what's happened.'

The silence was deafening, but as I dropped my arms to turn away, my ears prick up. I can hear the faint sound of a dog barking, out on the course. With strained eyes peering into the fog, it's just possible, for me to make out the shape of a small black and white sheep dog, running in and out of the mist.

'It's Maisie.'

Then for one last time she runs out of the fog, but responding to the sound of a shrill whistle, she disappears like a ghost, in the fog.

Standing and staring into the fog for a few long moments, I hear in the distance, the clanging of an iron gate closing, it was ironic, feeling like a part of my life was also being closed, allowing me to move on.

It was all the affirmation I required, and I shouted out at the top of my voice.

'Thanks Shepherd, thanks for everything, I mean it.'

'I can't see you, but I'm guessing you can see me.'

'Bye to you and bye to Maisie.'

'Here's hoping we meet again one day.'

I feel an unexpected sadness, but still have a wide smile on my face, as I turn away from the Golf Course, to head home.

It's not long before my free spirit takes hold, and I'm back up on my toes, racing home to the family, and exhibiting all my youthful vitality.

However, my final surprise of the day comes when arriving home. I swing around the garden gate post, bound up the front steps, around the corner, and run to the door at the side of the house. I open the door to see my brothers and our cute little sister, who are all sat around the table, ready for tea. Mum who is stood at the old iron cooker, turns around in surprise, looking me up and down, with an amazed look on her face.

'Well this is an unexpected, but pleasant surprise.'

'You're home nice an early, and even better you're in time to have tea with us.'

'It really is a treat, to have you all around the table together.'

You know, we sometimes wonder if you realise that you have a home here.'

Unknown to my family, my brain was almost on fire, when it dawned on me that we were still in daylight. What the blazes, it was already dark and way past teatime when I left the Golf Club.

Unable to explain the experience, I told Mum a little white lie.

'Yeah, I know Mum,'

'I made a special effort today and ran all the way home.'

My Mum looked me up and down again, with an even more puzzled look on her face, than before.

'Oh dear, you must be more careful.'

'Son there's no telling what harm you could come to, running the way you do.'

'In that awful fog.'

'Fog!'

'Yes Son, Fog!'

She gestured toward the open door, and I turned around to see that a dense fog was billowing around the entrance to the house.

It puffed, in and out of the doorway, as if gasping for breath.

This bought a wry smile, to my face.

Thinking, it was probably exhausted from chasing me home.

The scene was too surreal for words, shrugging my shoulders I turned and closed the door, shutting out the puffing fog.

This was one of those special moments, that stay with you for the rest of your life, when you appreciate having a big family around you. It was delightful, everyone at the table was genuinely pleased to see me, there wasn't a sour puss amongst them, and without asking they all shuffled around, making room for me to sit at the table. It was quite remarkable how they were all so different, but still looked so alike, and we must do for everybody says so. I sat comfortably between Colin and Dennis, the older of my younger brothers, it is impossible to express the pride and joy I felt with them by my side, I silently prayed that this feeling would last forever.

The Shepherds words echoed quietly in my mind.

'Remember Son, everything comes to those who wait.'

Next