Oh yes, I love the dawn.

Daybreak is just wonderful.

Everything in the house is quiet and everyone is still sound asleep. I can stretch out on the sun lounger in the conservatory and watch as the sky slowly lightens, with spreading pink and deep red hues, the clouds appearing purple against a pale yellow splash. The beautiful colours change so rapidly, I have to try not to blink for fear of missing something spectacular.

When I was younger, I never really took the time out to look at those before, I was more interested in other things, but now – and I hate to say this, but I’m getting on in years and I find staring at the changing colours and patterns in the sky, fascinating.

I love the way the sky changes from a coal black, through to powder blue as all the other colours spread across, sometimes challenging the observer to describe them at all. Then the sun appears, poking its head over the distant hills, more often than not, just a small, deep red ball that seems to set fire to them.

As daylight appears, so too do the birds. Their enthusiasm evident in their constant chirping and whistling as they cling tightly to the nut and seed feeders that hang from various tree-limbs and other posts around the garden, or pecking at the smallest morsel of food on the ground.

Blackbirds hop from one place to the next, tossing the dead leaves in the air, hunting for small grubs and insects beneath as the sun climbs higher in the sky, its warming rays flooding through the conservatory windows while I bask in the beauty and silence that is what’s best about this time of the morning.

Somewhere in the distance, I can hear a beeping sound; a sound that becomes more insistent and I know it’s time for this to end. I leave the comfort of the sun lounger and stretch, stifling a yawn as I pad inside through the lounge and towards the kitchen.

“Hi Sam. Were you in the conservatory?” said Allie, who gave me a hug, not saying anything; she just held me tightly to her.

We must have been there for some time, revelling in the quiet and togetherness. It’s something I try to do every morning – it certainly makes me feel better, but it’s the only time we get to be like that.

Suddenly the noise started.

It was noise that started most days as Lizzie screamed at the top of her voice: “Mum! Terry won’t come out of the bathroom.”

“Terry, get out of the bathroom!” she yelled, giving me quite a start as I dropped to the floor. “I’m sorry, Sammy,” Allie said, with a note of regret. “Here we go again…”

She reached for a tin of Cattomeat and opened it, forking the contents into a bowl. I purred loudly as she smiled and rubbed my head.

Yes, dawn is I think, the best time of the day.



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