recognized

These days have been some dark days.  The sky's everchanging face, a mask of heavy clouds slipping one over another -- and though these clouds are dense -- and I was thinking I wanted light -- the sky has not been opaque.  The dim woods and fields are alive with restless spirits and lovely beasts, barely camoflouged in the subtle shifting of grey light.  I move easily among them, as if they recognize me as one of their own.