Last November, I walked the eastern shore before breakfast, when the harbour lights were still amber and the water had forgotten its colour. The wind pressed every thought flat; by the time I reached the old jetty, the silence felt companionable.
Make room for the changing sky
We plan around weather as if it were a delay, yet the forecast gives the day its texture. A late ferry, wet mittens, a blue gap over the spruce line: these small conditions ask us to move more slowly and look twice.