It’s just after 8am and I’m out in the garden with the laptop and a coffee.  I think this is the hour that everybody seems to emerge – I can hear windows opening and voices – chattering about what needs to happen in order for the day to start.  The dogs have been left outside, they too, are chatting over the garden fences.  It’s the same every morning, an unconscious way of marking what time it is.  The various different birds flying about and singing in their dawn chorus are joined by aeroplanes.  I see their con trails in the sky – why has that reminded me of slugs and snails? – when I can’t see them like the birds, I can hear them somewhere high above and off in the distance.

Because of the angle of the building, I have a choice, I can sit in a warm sunny carpark or sit in a slightly colder shaded garden.  I’ve picked the garden, nobody goes near me.  The closest I have to that are the bees who are investigating the raspberries.  They’re not in the lavender yet, although I can smell it sometimes if the breeze goes in the right direction. I’m waiting for the honeysuckle, now that is a beautiful smell.

Occasionally I will be joined by the cat but this morning she has chosen to go back to bed.  I will probably make the same choice when I’m her age.  But for now, for this season, for this day, I chose to get up earlier and and enjoy the sounds.   It’s a gentle way to start the day and for that I’m lucky.  There’s no hurry hurry hurry.  It’s strange that 30mins less time in bed gives my day much more than 30mins extra.