'There Will Always Be Another Sunrise'....

...for the stillborn baby, mentioned in yesterday's Blip.

And for James, the father, and Jules, the mother. And Jonny, my friend, the grandfather. James is Jonny's eldest son.

It seems that nowadays parents are encouraged to spend time with the lifeless baby, despite this being such a difficult and painful time.

My title is what I was saying to Jonny, yesterday evening. Jonny told me that James held his second child all night, through the night and as the hospital is on the south east coast, found solace and spiritual comfort by witnessing a sunrise, over the sea. All from the window.

I've often said to folk that when things seem their blackest, when humankind have failed you, witnessing nature and the world waking up again, is like a wash of cleansing. This reassuring predictability allows one to put things into perspective. When I've felt despair, which is far more often than I'd ever let on, a sunrise does wonders for me. Unlike sunset, at this time of year (this was timed at 05.11) it's such a personal, private screening.

I was joking with Blipper Ann in the small hours, who said that sunrises were now just too early for her. As this was 2  a.m., I suggested that she stay up a bit and shoot dawn at bedtime!

So, yes, that is exactly what I did here. It was clear last night, but with cloud moving in by dawn. So, despite my so-tiring disco dancing all yesterday afternoon, I gulped down a three teaspoon mug of coffee (!) and waited up.

Took the tripod, for the two mile walk, to this viewpoint looking east. Laverstock clump, on the Laverstock Down makes for a neat outline. At first, there was a thin band of brightness, then it glowed like this (no bumped up colour saturation here). Then, the sun burst forth and it was intensely bright. For about five minutes. Then, it was like someone turning the light off, as cloud swallowed it all up.

I walked back via the Community Farm. The sheep and donkeys were still asleep. There was actually an evening of live music at the farm last night, part of the Festival. I was due to go to this after ParkLife. But I went to see Jonny, instead. At that point, I didn't know the news - but I had an inkling something was wrong with the birth, because they hadn't told me anything. They were waiting to return to Salisbury and to see me in person. If I'd gone to the Farm, I still wouldn't know of this news, yet.

Many thanks for your wishes and prayers. I will certainly pass them on. James, is actually a GP and Jonny, a consultant radiologist, so they know medicine, but of course, they are human and feel pain, but similarly, they will know of the professional help they can get.

I didn't go out for this sunrise, for Blip, nor to score brownie points. I went out because I wanted to and because it seemed right. Also, it's generally going to be dull for the next two days. And certainly not because I felt at all bad for my antics with certain young (ish) ladies yesterday afternoon! Jonny found all this really funny when I told him, a good icebreaker and distraction from the bad news.

Bed now. I think I deserve that, now! Catch you all later.