Colours and blues

I look for time at the edges of the curtain, for the first blue glow, because I am awake much earlier. And I am hungry. The breakfast is a delight and I gulp it down in heaps. Once outside, I find frosty fields, scoops of grass poured over with white, and edges of papery leaves delicately powdered. The willow of the sloping green lawn bends down on to the bench beneath it. Even the moss lining the path glows as the sun rises. The river is misted over, canada geese race along it, sometimes high up on the sky, sometimes so low, their wings leave a trail over the water. The mallards are still asleep.

When the busy day ends, the sky is that special blue and the camera finds its way into my hands again. Dinner, on red sofas, is simple but enough.

Larger.