The other night Winnie crawled into bed with me, snuggled in close to me, and she was snoring lightly. In my sleeping haze it sounded like two old men having a quiet calm chat on a fuzzy old radio station.
I turned onto the winding road into Clarksburg in the early morning, the sun was lighting up the orchard rows where the trees were slick with ice, making them look like diamonds or just pure ice and no tree.
The water in Craigleith is the most amazing colours these days, frozen into waves in parts, and then just trying to be turquoise but too cold and too stormy maybe to make it.
This morning I awoke at 5am. I was driving in the dark singing along to Leonard Cohen and longing to be awake that early and headed somewhere other than work.
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