I watched the sun rise twice this morning.

The brilliant golden disc crested the horizon as I drove, wishing for the camera and watching as the clear blue of a winter morning blushed to the softest peach. The sun rose as if held in the delicate tracery of the trees, bare and black against the light.

A few minutes later I watched it rise over a different horizon as I entered the town. The diffuse pastel glow had gone, the sky a cold yet beautiful blue as the sliver of fire peeked over the rooftops, framed between chimney and steeple.

I contemplated for a moment the difference in what I saw and how the same event seemed entirely different mere minutes and a few hundred yards apart…

But then the morning dragged me back before I could go off on one of those flights of fancy.

We have Glastonbury tomorrow and a heck of a lot is still to be done today before I can even begin to think about that…

As well as the inevitable trip to the dreaded supermarket…

Still, I brighten at the prospect of ending the day with a leisurely and fragranced bath,before collecting my friend from the station. Followed by a glass of red wine and good conversation. Ani has been appallingly reticent on the nature of existence where our recent discussions are concerned and it will be nice to talk to someone whose main area of interest is not green and spherical for a change.

I worry about my sanity sometimes.

Tomorrow Glastonbury, a final visit for the year to the ‘holiest earthe’ in Albion, a final homage to the ancient mounds of Marlborough and Silbury as we pass and for some reason there is a tinge of sadness there as a chapter closes. Yet we have seen so much, discovered so many treasures on our journeyings to the fabled Avalon this year… friendship not the least of them by any means.

Where next? That would be telling… Enough to know that every day, these days, is an adventure.

The Avenue