I notice that the light mornings are dwindling. It is a sad realisation, how I love that opening up of blue.
There were several night-time wanderers about this morning and we all seemed to have sticks. We’re a singular group, most walk fast with heads and eyes trained forward, onward, going somewhere but not ever getting there, or so it seems. Some I recognised, some I didn’t. Do they notice me as I notice them?
