Picking up the pace

Unfamiliar birdsong in the morning, the strange angle of the sun through the windows, remind you that it's a different place to the one you know. Like water trickling over stones, life slows down.

Sophorific air in the plane maintains the cocoon and then you arrive. Dappled light through indistinct shapes changes to hard lines, squares within squares. Birds and spring blossom replaced with raincoats and car horns. A shot of adrenalin in the arm, though jarring, invigorates.

Conflicting instincts - drawn towards light and noise but tempted back into the musky warmth of smaller things. Finally you step back onto the perpetually moving track.