Dawn Running

There was light enough to see as I left the house at 6.04 this morning and the moon was faint. By the time I had reached the canal the sun was rising. Back home seven miles later, despite a messed up knee, it was fully day. For so many months I've been running in the dark, even in the moonlight unable to see much of the woods and fields and hills around me, or the signposts on the lanes [not that there are many of them in the Quantocks, but that's another story]. And then there are the times when in thick fog I can barely see my hands, let alone my feet.

Yet running in the pre-dawn dark is every bit as amazing as the sight of the rising sun. You can't see where you're putting your feet, you have no idea whether or when you are going to fall flat on your face, or land knee deep in half frozen water. The landmarks are completely different to those of the day and predictably hard to see, but there is a wild beauty to it and more parallels to life than I have time to bore you with.

Back home, with breakfast done and the kids off the school and playgroup I pack up and set off to Trinity to sell stoles - the first time that I've ever sold my paintings without a specific commission - far more scary than even the darkest of runs. I sold five of them and made a profit and had a very good response. I kept on being asked if I had a website, to which the answer had to be 'no, this is a first'. I website is way beyond me, but I have, assuming that this is working, managed to set up this blog [and without getting Jane to do all the techie stuff]. And in due course, hopefully, it'll have pictures of the stoles [for your information, they are long scarf type things that priests wear around their necks - and mine are painted in oils] and my other paintings, as well as assorting ramblings about the kids, Jane, running, church, politics and the rest of life.

I've just discovered how to insert a picture [I think] so here is one of Cnicht - of which I'll be writing much, much more.