Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

While I may wish that my inner alarm clock could be switched off as easily as the mechanical contraption that normally screeches me awake at some ungodly hour, I was glad to be woken by the kiss of dawn… just to walk the few yards through the dew-drenched grass that now desperately needs cutting, down to the fence, to watch the morning mists turn gold. The soft light was gentle on aching eyes, the warmth a mere shiver away from chilled and the fresh silence a beautiful antidote to fevered dreams and a mind that had spent the night being weirder than my normal weird.

The sparrows that I knew I would miss from my old garden have a contingent nesting on my roof…and feeding in my garden. There were rabbits in the field and my scruffy robin, now almost fully fledged, was already after his breakfast.

Ani and I…