Puppy Stan woke me this morning in what seemed like the dead of night and he and I headed out into the darkness to meet the softest misty rain and a gentle breeze. As he tugged me to the corner of our road, I caught sight of the barest first glimmerings of today.
The blinds of dawn were being eased up by the gentlest of hands as if giving us time to run home, grab car and camera and answer the call of the waves.
The drama that unfolded was magical ~ never to be seen in quite the same form again, never ever as each jewelled today comes but once.
Out along the Cliff Road, a gull soared in celebration:
Newtown Cove, from where Harry and I will cast the Wishing Stones on New Year’s Eve was bathed in golden light:
Not knowing when the dawn will
come I open every door.