A Different Kind of Morning Walk

This morning’s walk was a little different. It was still dark when I left the house, the kind of soft, in‑between darkness that feels like the world hasn’t quite made up its mind about waking. I turned left at the end of the road and headed down the hill into the scenic reserve.

The rain must have visited overnight — puddles glimmered faintly on the path — but the sky held itself together while I walked. Under the trees it was very dark, a deep, quiet sort of darkness that presses close but never feels unfriendly. The canopy above me turned the world into a shadowed tunnel, but the first hints of dawn were gathering behind it, just enough light to guide my feet.

The birds were waking too, shaking sleep from their feathers and chattering softly as they prepared for the day. Across the ravine, human life was stirring: warm squares of light blinked on in distant windows, and the faint smell of woodsmoke drifted toward me as someone coaxed their fire back to life.

As the daylight grew stronger, the reserve began to reveal itself. Colours slowly separated from the darkness — greens, browns, reds and gold.

By the time I climbed back up the hill and headed toward home, it was fully light. Not a bright, sunny morning — more of a soft grey, the kind of overcast day that feels gentle rather than gloomy. I’m perfectly fine with that. I did my garden chores yesterday in the sunshine, and my town chores are already ticked off.

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While I was in town yesterday, I looked out over Caroline Bay from the rooftop carpark.

The circus is in town. No, I didn’t visit.

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Today feels like a kitchen‑and‑sewing sort of day. On the sewing front, I’ve laid my crochet aside for now and picked up my hexies again.

Three of the four sides are now straight — well, as straight as a hexie can be. A little more work on the final side and it will be ready for quilting.

But first, I have a bowl full of feijoas waiting for attention. Some will become cakes, and some will head for the freezer.

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Nine more work shifts.

15 sleeps.

I might be getting a little bit excited.