I have this weird thing where I quite like walking around in the dark and the cold. With two dogs needing to be walked most days of the week, I have plenty of reason to get after it in the morning. And I most like getting after it in winter.
Of course, I don't live in Tasmania, so it's pretty unusual to hit a morning that’s brutally cold, but I'm happy taking the hounds out anywhere north of zero. Once or twice a week, I like to get away on my own, dog-free, and just enjoy the walk. Sometimes, I'll listen to a podcast or an audiobook; sometimes, I'll work out what I'm going to write that day. I might even record a couple of notes about a chapter structure or a character arc. And, of course, I've mapped out all of the early morning coffee joints, some of which are open by 5:00 in the morning, so I can get a head start on my fix for the day. It's weird, given that I spend my entire working day by myself, but I really do enjoy the lonesomeness of walking around before the sun has come up. Like nobody's had a chance to fuck up my day yet.
I took this photo last week by the river over in West End. It's a decent enough picture, I guess, but the morning was stunning. The rowing crews emerging from the fog on the river added a nice eerie touch.
Unfortunately, I’ve learned that fog on the river means my cold morning walks are coming to an end. There must be something about the microclimate around that part of town, but a foggy river pretty much always means a hot day to follow.
Sure enough, the temperatures have climbed into the mid-30s. I'll soon be back at the airconditioned gym for my morning workouts, and the dogs will be taking their strolls at night.