It’s one of those days, a day of little or no wind and continuous cloud cover. It’s not too warm but neither is it exceptionally cold, not bright but not dark either. In fact its only characteristic is that is has few characteristics. Today is not fancy day like those courted by photographers everywhere:dazzling, blue days of sun or mercurial days of storms. No,today is like a plain girl at a dance, quiet in the corner, unremarked upon yet somehow, full of mystery. I love these days.

There are no garish colours, only grey. Only?You slow down, you look, you see:blue-grey, green-grey, dirty-grey, Paynes grey. No loud noises either, no rattling wind, no cracks of thunder, no pelting rain. There is a muffled quality to the air broken only by the far off squawk of a crow and the soft thunk of the SAR helicopter heading back to base.

Running beneath it all there is a sense of waiting, a great stillness that perhaps mirrors a stillness that we all have somewhere deep, deep inside. These are the days of the moment, of the now, of nothing and of everything, moments of waiting, moments of rest before the fall into winter. Like a universal duvet day, there are no expectations today, the only thing to do is just to be.



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