Dawn Walk

All images and text copyright and sole property of J.R.Marsden.

My dawn walk is magical. It's quiet. It's still dark but nearly light. The sky is blue. The houses still look asleep. The shutters are still shut but some of them are open.

The village is so pretty.

In the kilometer I have walked the sky has gone more blue.

The village looks so beautiful with the light from the sky lighting the stones. But still the electric lamps glow with a nice orange glow.

The road is striped with orange light then blue light then orange light then blue light.

In the distance I hear a car but mostly I can hear the wind in the trees, in the vines, rustling.

As I reach the peak of a little hill the view of the mountains across the way is just beautiful.

And the way the horizon is orange then pink, then green, then blue. It's like a rainbow, a skybow.

The street lights have just gone out, all of them. Blinked out like a stolen breath, or like in Harry Potter.

It's light really but dim.

Just a short while away I was in the dark and I heard a man. He was walking behind me, so I turned round and said "Bonjour."

He said "Bonjour" too. Then he walked slowly away , but he seemed to cover alot of distance quite fast. As he grew further away I took a picture of him on the horizon.

I don't think he'd mind

because he saw me taking pictures and He looked very kind.

And now I'm going to get run over by a fast car, so far only one car has passed me.

The mountains look blue. The further away they get, the bluer and greyer they look. There is layers and layers of them in the distance. Even a stripe of an aeroplane.

Blue skies behind,

Orange in front,

A golden glow at my side.

Trees line my walk.

Here I am at the goat farm. There is always a cheesey goat smell when you walk past. Sometimes a dog barks. Hopefully not today, because it gives me a little fright.

The camera is not doing today justice. What a shame. It is beautiful for me as I walk along. Listening to each step of my wellington boot and the sound of my jeans brushing together. Mingling with the wind. Not my wind.

Beautiful day.

It's the middle of october and I don't even have a coat on. I've got a hat on and a jumper but no coat.

The wind is gentle. I feel it on my face. It is soft. It blows softly. Like a caress it smoothes my face and moves my hair gently. It rustles the trees.

There was no dog at the goat farm today, well not outside.

In the distance I can hear farmers, clanking with farm machinery.

The wind grows a little stronger. I'm still not cold. It grows louder in my ears. The trees move more, swaying , still gently.

I set off in the dark and I've come back in the light. Which is a bit like being born, then being born again.

Beautiful day.

Beautiful creation.

Beautiful God.

Beautiful hearts.

The pink and orange have gone from the sky.

It's just blue. I'll have to wear them so that people will remember. Dawn, pink and orange.

As I stroll back into the village there are lights on in the little windows. There are open shutters and there are open windows.

There is some Lavender in the blue sky above the village. Beautiful lavender.

I'm passing a palm tree which never quite seems to fit to me. A palm tree.

Another car, a smart person all ready for work.

The bin men, collecting themselves together about to get in their van.

As I pass a plain tree the noise of the birds fills my head.. Like a block of flats, filled with people. Children going to school, birds setting off for work. So noisy.

The bar is all lit up. A man smiles at me with his toothless grin. He is on his way to get his morning pastis and his daily baguette.

Imagine ... A day without bread, is like a day without sunshine.

The suns not actually shown itself yet, but I need another cup of tea so I'm going to head home.

I walk up my street. Beautiful red and orange ivy clings to the stone walls of peoples homes.

Little lights glow on terraces.

A little light glows in my window to welcome me home.

To begin the day in the usual way.

My little flowers on the terrace all shiny, all pretty. My pots of glass beads and my gorgeous blue heather.

And Jamie's coffee cups waiting to be taken inside and washed up.

Here we are the day is awake.