An early rising.

Sunrise over Treown The cool grey light of 4 am seeps beneath bedroom curtains. No matter how I straighten them the night before - battening down the hatches, blocking out the light - by morning cracks have appeared and sunlight pierces the room, refracting into rainbows. This morning I rise before the sun, before even…

What time is it really?

Photo by Dimitry Anikin on Pexels.com ‘What time is it really?’ The dog and I stalk around the house trying to work it out, the shifting of the clocks having discombobulated us both. With our precise internal clocks, we are tipped off-kilter for the whole of November, trying to perform mental acrobatics to work out…