Now the clocks have fallen back for winter, I count every moment of daylight. The work day dawns as I head to the train station, but has long since given way to night by the time I arrive home.
Out at daybreak on Tuesday to photograph cobwebs in the freezing mist, I literally bumped into a professional photographer doing the same. He gave me his card and we both turned to go in opposite directions, disappearing into the fog to go our separate ways along the river. It was a great way to start the day before my final lectures of the year.
Taken on my sunset walk along the River Colne tonight, in the freezing fog, looking across to Rowhedge and their Christmas decorations. Every season, and each change of the weather, has its own beauty. The fog muffles sound and alters light, bringing quiet and calm, slowing life down.
Welcoming Advent on my morning walk along the quayside at Wivenhoe, before starting another day working from home.
As a drawn-out, unpredictable, emotional rollercoaster of a sober October (my canine-supervised sobriety has been raising funds for Macmillan Cancer Support ) draws to its inevitable close, Frank and Zoe-dog prepare for winter. They begin to tolerate each other in close proximity for the darkest months; sharing fur warmth and firework worries. Tomorrow, Zoe-dog will celebrate her seventh birthday. A rescue from downtown San Jose, CA, where she was dumped as a tiny puppy at Christmas 2012, I gave her Hallowe’en as her birthday. The math works and so do her spells.
The air is milder, the days little-by-little longer, now, I feel it is but a short hop to Spring. In the morning, I leave for work as the sun comes up, and in the evening, I leave for home just as it sets. Winter is clocking off.