Sometimes I run. Sometimes I walk. Mostly I cycle. And I think. And these are the things I think about.
Early morning walks in September are tinged with blue. The air is damp, and wet and a little bit misty. Almost blurred around the edges with grey and bright blue. And looking across the lake this morning the trees were dark, and the water was still. Yet everything shimmered softly, with slow, and imperceptible movement. The misty air settling and shifting. And blue descending and rising from the water.