Words by David, edited by Danny. Header image by Danny
I wake around 4:00am Monday to Friday for work.
Say this to most people and you’re greeted with a look of shock, as if such a time simply doesn’t exist.
By 5:00am I am out of the door, greeted by the approaching dawn. The sky is shifting from black to a brighter grey. If you don’t stop for a moment and take notice, the world seems silent and still. But I have learned to look and listen. Birds are talking, trees are creaking, clouds are starting to take shape as the darkness gives way.
As I drive to work, so much is revealed. The wildlife of Britain feels safe in the morning darkness, able to explore, unseen by most. I have watched badgers sneak across the street, on lookout for a hideaway from the day walkers. I have had to slow my car and let small deer scatter out of harms way. Whilst driving down one particular lane, which crosses a vast farmer’s field, I tend to keep an eye to the sky, watching for the owls and buzzards and hawks who are scouring the crops for breakfast.
Horses are still asleep in the fields as I approach my destination. Small, imperceptible creatures disperse into ditches as I arrive.
I always appreciate this time of day as it feels personal to me, like I am one of the few who experience it. Sunrise is for everyone else, seen by most.
Dawn is my time.