There is no snow, yet it is very cold. The grass wears millions of tiniest crystals. With the street behind you, you can hear the occasional whoooshhhhhh of a car going by, too early, too fast, who knows where.
The sky is colorless and dark. Hunched in upon yourself, you sit and wait, patiently, with the taste of sleep on the back of your throat because you were too tired to brush your teeth, too tired to brew some coffee "to go" to keep warm.
This year, you promised yourself, you would do this. Between the madness that is the holidays in your family and the stress and the drama, you made a vow to catch the first rays of winter sun. You kiond of regret this now. But so many people have let you down, and you will not be one of them.
A flash of red, inconspicuous enough to be missed if one had blinked. You are not even sure it was there, actually. Maybe this is all one giant self-delusion, the biggest waste of time. Like when you believed in Santa as a kid.
The sun comes up fast, caressing the mountaintops. It will only be a short visit to earth today, the shortest of the year, and darkness and cold will hold you in their grip for many more days to come.
Time to go home. Time for coffee and tea and hot porridge, and to embrace what is.