1001 Ghost, Chiller & Lovecraft Stories
Aug 23, 2026 · 51 min · 16 segments
# **1001 GHOST, CHILLER & LOVECRAFT STORIES** ## **Show Notes –** ***The Colour Out of Space*** **(Part Two – Final Half)** ### *Summer of Lovecraft* In the second half of **"The Colour Out of…
April brought a kind of madness to the country folk and began that disuse of road past Nahum's which led to its ultimate abandonment.
All the orchard trees blossomed forth in strange colors, and through the stony soil of the yard and adjacent pasturage there sprang up a bizarre growth which only a botanist could connect with the proper flora of the region.
No sane, wholesome colors were anywhere to be seen except in the green grass and leafage, but everywhere were those hectic and prismatic variants of some diseased, underlying primary tone without a place among the known tints of earth.
The Dutchman's breeches became a thing of sinister menace, and the blood roots grew insolent in their chromatic perversion.
Ammi and the gardeners thought that most of the colors had a sort of haunting familiarity, and decided that they reminded one of the brittle globules in the meteor.
Nahum plowed and sowed the ten-acre pasture and the upland lot, but did nothing with the land around the house.
He knew it would be of no use, and hoped that the summer's strange growths would draw all the poison from the soil.
He was prepared for almost anything now, and had grown used to the sense of something near him waiting to be heard.
The shunning of his house by neighbors told on him, of course, but it told on his wife more.
The boys were better off being at school each day, but they could not help being frightened by the gossip.
In May the insects came, and Nahum's place became a nightmare of buzzing and crawling.
Most of the creatures seemed not quite usual in their aspects and motions, and their nocturnal habits contradicted all former experience.
The gardeners took to watching at night, watching in all directions at random for something.
Mrs. Gardner was the next to see it from the window as she watched the swollen boughs of a maple against the moonlit sky.
Strangeness had come into everything growing now, yet it was none of Nahum's family at all who made the next discovery.
Familiarity had dulled them, and what they could not see was glimpsed by a timid windmill salesman from Bolton who drove by one night in ignorance of the country legends.
What he told in Arkham was given a short paragraph in the Gazette, and it was there that all the farmers, Nahum included, saw it first.
THE NIGHT HAD BEEN DARK AND THE BUGGY LAMPS FAINT, BUT AROUND A FARM IN THE VALLEY WHICH EVERYONE KNEW FROM THE ACCOUNT MUST BE NAMES, THE DARKNESS HAD BEEN LESS THICK.
A DIM THOUGH DISTINCT LUMINOSITY SEEMED TO INHERE IN ALL THE VEGETATION, GRASS, LEAVES, AND BLOSSOMS LIKE, WHILE AT ONE MOMENT A DETACHED PIECE OF THE PHOSPHORESCENCE APPEARED TO STIR FURTIVELY IN THE YARD NEAR THE BARN.
April brought a kind of madness to the country folk and began that disuse of road past Nahum's which led to its ultimate abandonment.
All the orchard trees blossomed forth in strange colors, and through the stony soil of the yard and adjacent pasturage there sprang up a bizarre growth which only a botanist could connect with the proper flora of the region.
No sane, wholesome colors were anywhere to be seen except in the green grass and leafage, but everywhere were those hectic and prismatic variants of some diseased, underlying primary tone without a place among the known tints of earth.
The Dutchman's breeches became a thing of sinister menace, and the blood roots grew insolent in their chromatic perversion.
Ammi and the gardeners thought that most of the colors had a sort of haunting familiarity, and decided that they reminded one of the brittle globules in the meteor.
Nahum plowed and sowed the ten-acre pasture and the upland lot, but did nothing with the land around the house.
He knew it would be of no use, and hoped that the summer's strange growths would draw all the poison from the soil.
He was prepared for almost anything now, and had grown used to the sense of something near him waiting to be heard.
The shunning of his house by neighbors told on him, of course, but it told on his wife more.
The boys were better off being at school each day, but they could not help being frightened by the gossip.
In May the insects came, and Nahum's place became a nightmare of buzzing and crawling.
Most of the creatures seemed not quite usual in their aspects and motions, and their nocturnal habits contradicted all former experience.
The gardeners took to watching at night, watching in all directions at random for something.
Mrs. Gardner was the next to see it from the window as she watched the swollen boughs of a maple against the moonlit sky.
Strangeness had come into everything growing now, yet it was none of Nahum's family at all who made the next discovery.
Familiarity had dulled them, and what they could not see was glimpsed by a timid windmill salesman from Bolton who drove by one night in ignorance of the country legends.
What he told in Arkham was given a short paragraph in the Gazette, and it was there that all the farmers, Nahum included, saw it first.
THE NIGHT HAD BEEN DARK AND THE BUGGY LAMPS FAINT, BUT AROUND A FARM IN THE VALLEY WHICH EVERYONE KNEW FROM THE ACCOUNT MUST BE NAMES, THE DARKNESS HAD BEEN LESS THICK.
A DIM THOUGH DISTINCT LUMINOSITY SEEMED TO INHERE IN ALL THE VEGETATION, GRASS, LEAVES, AND BLOSSOMS LIKE, WHILE AT ONE MOMENT A DETACHED PIECE OF THE PHOSPHORESCENCE APPEARED TO STIR FURTIVELY IN THE YARD NEAR THE BARN.
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