As the early morning ferry approaches the mainland: a sliver of light on the blue-black water

Wiping morning damp from the wing mirror, a tiny curled up spider

Heavy grey-sky morning: the brightness of the green where the sun hits the hill

Leaving early for the ferry, a patch of hillside in the mirror of the sea stops me still

A week without seeing the cats, the length of their whiskers

Long slow straggle of cars behind a caravan, the way the light moves over the hill