Early mornings

At this time of the year I quite often watch the dawn - provided I am in France.  From the kitchen window we get a good view of the sun coming up and an even better view if we step out into the courtyard.  Like this:

I tend not to see the dawn here in England as other houses block the view. But there was a time when I did see it quite often.

It seems a lifetime away now, but during the last few years of my working life I would leave the house at six in the morning so as to be at my desk at about five past eight, thereby beating the worst of the rush hour.   I had pretty much forgotten what it feels like to be one of the few on the streets before full daylight, what it is to watch lights coming on house by house as people get up and get ready for another busy day.  Or boring day, as the case may be.  But today I was reminded of all that.

The Old Bat had a hospital appointment for more tests - the doctors think they know what the problem is but they want to be sure - and was due at the hospital for 11.00.  Parking at the County Hospital here in Brighton is abysmal and the Old Bat needs a wheelchair to get about the hospital so we had arranged for Patient Transport Services - part of the NHS - to send an ambulance.  That means being ready two hours before the appointment time.  In any case, the Old Bat was to have neither food nor drink after seven o'clock.  So I was up just after six, serving her breakfast in bed by a quarter to seven, then out with the dog by half past.

I must be a bit peculiar in the head or something because there's something I like about being out and about before the world has woken up.  Not that I plan to make a habit of it.  Just the once will see me through for another three or four years.