Always a little regret on this optimistic day, at not having made the most of long warm evenings with deep blue skies lingering after nightfall, of the unfulfilled wish to be out somewhere remote wrapped in a blanket, sitting watching the shadows of a fire until sleep calls me to my little tent, of waking in the pale haze of a gathering dawn chorus and a sheen of shivering dew.
In a quiet and patient train, waiting for the green light on the viaduct, nearly midnight. Looking out at the blinking lights of a town fast becoming a city. A cat is sitting on the corner of a monochrome deserted street. A tired orange eye of moon slips down from a dark cloud blanket.