It was not yet eight o'clock when I was on the Roman Camp, having parked and walked across 39 Acres. A cloudy morning, and even then not quite full daylight. Had there been no cloud I would probably have seen the sun only just over the horizon. As it was, there was a yellow tinge to the eastern clouds with ships on the horizon sharply delineated. Meanwhile, all was murk and gloom to the west.
I started humming to myself (silently, I assure you) an old English folk song, Early One Morning. I have a vague recollection that this is - or was - the slow march of the Royal Marines.
I had a somewhat eccentric music master for the first few years at senior school. He loved to play the piano while we sang a whole range of folk songs like this one. And somehow snatches of many of them have stuck in my memory, although thankfully most are pretty well buried!