Winter dawn

We are at that lovely stage of an Orkney winter, the mornings are cold and crisp but not dangerous. The sky hangs over us like a military parade marching of over the horizon grading from black inky darkness through lightening shades of grey to the palest blue uniform of daylight then drifting back to the fiery colours of dawn sunlight.

They march slowly past the corner of the house across the road the light dripping from them to colour the world around me till the king himself processes past the roof line blinding me with his glorious low slung frosty whiteness.

I turn away from the brightness but let it fall on my back bathing me in comforting warmth to begin my day.