I am just back from taking Cupar out for his first walkies of 2020. We went our regular route, but this morning was unusual for more than the fact that we have now entered a new decade, and more than that we did not see a single moving motor vehicle throughout our half hour on the local main road,
We are quite used to the daylight and weather conditions here being extreme in one way or another. But this morning's dawn was one of the most eerie I have ever experienced. The wind was strong - coming straight in over the sea, and gusting to at least 50mph I would guess. The temperature was probably around 6C. Nothing unusual so far.
No - it was a combination of an extremely low cloud base - certainly no more than 500 feet - and the attempts by the weak winter sunrise to turn night into dawn that led to the unique scene. The cloud was thick and heavy, and covered the entire sky in a surging blanket. In colour, it was a peculiar and indescribable grey-purple. It moved fast, so low overhead I felt if I reached up my hand I would touch it. The dead moorland grasses at the roadside, flattened by the wind, glowed far too brightly in a weird near-fluorescent orange. Other than the buffeting of the wind, there was a complete absence of any sound. It was not raining, but there was a distinct dampness to the air - probably the result of minute droplets of sea-spray suspended in the atmosphere.
It was good to get back to the cosy warmth of the Barn. As the days, weeks and months pass, we will doubtless see many more sunrises, but the curious fist light of 2020 certainly gave the new decade something to live up to.
Happy New Year!