the end of the week, two days to Epiphany and the end of the holidays. Up at six for no real reason, there is no need for staying in bed.
Dark, it is early. In a blaze of orange beacons a small tractor run by the town council passes by, spreading salt on the wet street.
The snow has almost all melted now, it still snowed heavily yesterday. But the driver of the little tractor spreads salt anyhow, he had been paid to do this, so he does it. Snow or no snow, ice or none.
A slice of bread and an apple.
Early mornings are lovely, memorable. Being there at the onset of the day, being around before the day has become a conscious mass of people going about some business.
It is a good time for sleep, too. The luxury inherent in change, different situations, different times.
Return to bed, for fear of waking others.
Dark, it is early. In a blaze of orange beacons a small tractor run by the town council passes by, spreading salt on the wet street.
The snow has almost all melted now, it still snowed heavily yesterday. But the driver of the little tractor spreads salt anyhow, he had been paid to do this, so he does it. Snow or no snow, ice or none.
A slice of bread and an apple.
Early mornings are lovely, memorable. Being there at the onset of the day, being around before the day has become a conscious mass of people going about some business.
It is a good time for sleep, too. The luxury inherent in change, different situations, different times.
Return to bed, for fear of waking others.
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