South Eastern Train, Somewhere Between Hastings and London, 06.45
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Outside, everything white. Branches, grass, leaves: frozen hard and sharp, I know what it would sound like to stand on, the crunch and squeak of it under newly waxed boots, the cold creeping up my toes; sky white too, snow sky almost, the deepest frost I’ve seen in a long time. Air made visible and thick by freezing fog, enchanting now in the lifting dark but likely miserable later, through it, sheep, tinged pink still by the sunrise in the same way the sheep in the field in front of my grandmother’s house were on early winter’s mornings with that cold Scottish light, biting clear; and then, suddenly one shaft of light and everything is blue and white; the white edged blue and the blue edged white; a moment where everything feels true and good, and I would have missed this if plans had gone according to plan, if I’d travelled up to London the night before and not changed my mind to run the gauntlet with the early train and the thought now, of missing this, is enough to make me contemplate getting up early every morning for the rest of my life, while knowing at the same time, I won’t.
South Eastern Train, Somewhere Between Hastings and London, 06.45
South Eastern Train, Somewhere Between…
South Eastern Train, Somewhere Between Hastings and London, 06.45
Outside, everything white. Branches, grass, leaves: frozen hard and sharp, I know what it would sound like to stand on, the crunch and squeak of it under newly waxed boots, the cold creeping up my toes; sky white too, snow sky almost, the deepest frost I’ve seen in a long time. Air made visible and thick by freezing fog, enchanting now in the lifting dark but likely miserable later, through it, sheep, tinged pink still by the sunrise in the same way the sheep in the field in front of my grandmother’s house were on early winter’s mornings with that cold Scottish light, biting clear; and then, suddenly one shaft of light and everything is blue and white; the white edged blue and the blue edged white; a moment where everything feels true and good, and I would have missed this if plans had gone according to plan, if I’d travelled up to London the night before and not changed my mind to run the gauntlet with the early train and the thought now, of missing this, is enough to make me contemplate getting up early every morning for the rest of my life, while knowing at the same time, I won’t.