Quiet but never silent.

I missed the Sun this morning, not because I was late but because the early wander was done and dusted by the time the clouds cleared. When all is calm and grey the usual sounds of the morning seem to be as muted as the colours, as if a duvet has been placed over your world.
Listen though, because this is the time when you really hear things, things that perhaps would not get picked up otherwise.
This morning, when I slowed down and let the dogs do the same, smaller lives could be heard in the trees and hedges: Blackbirds were turning over leaves deep within the woods, a Wren barked commands at some poor creature with a voice far bigger than his size and a Squirrel made her way slowly through the high branches. In the distance, too far away to see, a woodpecker drummed its calling card on a tree, a noise that for me always signals the coming of Spring, even if we do have to wait a little while longer yet.

A Different Day

This morning we headed for the cliffs as the sky was clearer than it had been and it looked as if the day was going to stay that way. Once again a thick bank of cloud hugged the horizon and this would delay proceedings but there was a gap between it and a patch of more feathery clouds and this gap was worth waiting for. As soon as the Sun breached this of wall of cloud a rich, golden light flooded over the sea and washed across the cliffs.

There was a chill in the air but immediately it felt warmer, the air seemed somehow clearer and it was almost as if Spring really was just around the corner. 

Too Early For The Sunrise.

This morning the Sun was supposed to make her grand appearance at just after 8 o’clock so no need for an alarm or early start. The skies had been clear all night and the forecast was for a bit of blue today so it was ok to expect a fine first walk. On the horizon a bank of cloud stubbornly delayed the main event though and a chilly wind coming off the sea made it difficult to hang around. As we walked more clouds arrived and it became clear that the Sun would remain hidden: cloaked in cloud that gave more grey than colour and, this morning, I really needed more colour.

We turned onto the path that took us under trees where the sounds of nature can improve any monochrome day. The chatter of small birds, invisible in the undergrowth or just a blur high up in the canopy, filled the gloom and, as if on cue, one bird stood out more than the rest.  If you have any need for a lift on a morning when things just don’t feel right, find a Robin then watch and listen.