I am in farmland at the top of a hill. The paddocks are separated by old post and wire fences. I travel up the hill. We have a paddock and in it there are two old style water wells. One is very deep.
Many years later I return. The land is overgrown. I wander around the paddock. It is now fenced into two paddocks though the gate between them is now broken from old age and disused. In the smaller paddock is the deepest of the two wells. In my mind, the deepest well ever dug by humans. It has collapsed at the top and it is now, on the surface, an overgrown, small depression. A small sink hole. I feel that we no longer own this block.
Again years later. Someone has built a large old style wooden barn on-top of the deep well. It is a faded sky blue and very old. I think, this will not be too bad.
As I stand outside the building. A strange blue and grey ghost starts to rise through it. It is tubular, like those blow up advertising tube people, but with no arms. It becomes much taller than the building.
As it reaches about twice the height of the shed, it’s face looks frightened. It bursts and collapses back down to about half as tall as the shed. A reduced, non-dangerous, some-what diminished version of its former self.