The light creeping over the horizon creates a magnificent vignette on the sky canvas. It changes so subtly the eye can hardly follow it, so we freeze it as images on camera and register night becoming day. A ball of white light rushes towards us from behind the trees and then suddenly it's just a yellow ball hanging in the blue sky.
We look over our shoulder and gasp, while the sun has been rising so have some hot air balloons. They are moving slowing and silently, getting closer and then start coming down. I run along the road to find where it goes down in the field. It collapses, lopsided and clumsy when a moment ago it was floating elegantly and gracefully.
Mike is still back at our original spot completing the time-lapse capture on cyclists on the road, each of the commenting on the cold as they pass, each enjoying being out here on this crisp quiet morning.
We have breakfast at a venue close by and are home before 10:00.
What did you do Sunday morning?