Now when the days get shorter I feel the need to wake up much earlier when the world is still dark. I walk down the old wooden stairs in our house, I feed Willow, make some tea, enjoy a calm breakfast before the day really starts. But sometimes a light pink sky greets me on the roof window in our bedroom and then I go to the roof first and watch the colors slowly fading. This time a fog flew from the river to the fields and it made me want to go out on my bike so much. For some reason I haven’t really experienced fog. I remember early car rides years ago, but then I was not standing in it and it was almost out of reach.
So my green bike and I were cycling over the bridge, passing the houses, greeting an old man that was smiling because he saw how I covered my wrists and hand with my sweater, because it was so freezing cold for the first time. And than there was this beautiful fog waiting for me. Dancing right next to the tree tops and the last dry plants and what ever kept me sleepless that night it was almost forgotten after this beautiful morning.