It was windy, the rain came down and it was dark. So I left the house wrapped up in my coat, hunched, and face firmly looking down.
My brain was properly befuddled, putting up a force-field against the world. Lights from traffic blurred past as I froggered across the road. Perched against the bus stop I squinted at news articles on my phone - before giving up to let my eyes de-focus for, well, the day.
The bus journey is short - and the only interest comes from the anxiety caused by steamed up windows, and the chance of getting off too early - or too late. I judged it perfectly however, and set my shoulders against the elements, then got off.
Normally from here it would be auto-pilot, but I turned to walk in to work, and stopped. The sunrise spread out silhouetting the buildings, colours stretching and wrapping around each other. The sky yawned itself awake - tingling along the nerve-endings of clouds. I woke up.
I wanted to sketch - but worked loomed, tutting. I had no choice but to grab a quick photo - trusting to Wordsworth's phrase - "emotion recollected in tranquillity" (a phrase that stuck from much wrangling with the poet over A-levels).
Tonight I sat down, anxious to sketch my memory for later. Looking back at the photo, feeling the contrast between the morning and the sudden burst of colour. Picking out the shade and sweep of the scene and capturing all that in the movement of the brush - not just the sight, but feeling.
And when the time is right I will remember.