Taken on my morning walk along the River Colne, facing east towards the newly-risen Sun. A reflective time before hosting Zoom lectures.
In August, I moved. I moved to an apartment with a view; described by one local amateur thespian as ‘Not a location, but a destination, darling!’ I didn’t just arrive here, I was absorbed. My default detachment setting was over-ridden. The neighbourhood took me in, gave me flowers, wine (lots of wine, it’s Wivenhoe), conversation and a sense of community.
Four months later, I remain centre stage at a waterside theatre; the winter stalls filled by fishing boats, cyclists, walkers, runners, dogs and their humans. This week, I exchanged Christmas gifts with neighbours and so discovered my new name. NextDoor is where I am (even if they live in the next street).
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.