I was living in Charminster, a tiny village in Dorset, England and there was a two mile walk from the station in Dorchester. It was late in the year and by the time I set out it was dark, the sky was clear and the moon was shining. From Dorchester I walked down the hill into the river valley and as I descended I could see there was a ground mist rising just six feet or so, above which it was perfectly clear with the tops of the trees floating in the sea of mist. There was little or no traffic on the road and a great stillness in the air. On the wooden fences the frost sparkled in the moonlight.

I walked for a while and thought I heard music but then there was silence again. I continued to walk and again I thought I heard something but could not make out what it was and again it went silent. Gradually the further I walked the more I could hear the music until I could make it out to be the sound of a fairground organ. I carried on feeling warm inside at the beauty of the surroundings and the surreal rich and happy organ sounds floating over the fields.

The music was evidently coming from somewhere in Charminster and continued to get louder as I approached. Then as I turned off the main road and walked up into the village out of the mist, the music stopped and surreal gave way to real

An unforgettable experience about forty years ago now