Friday, 30 June 2017


Light starts to shine upon the faces of buildings, but the streets are still in shadow.

The city is not yet awake. I can hear my own footsteps.

This is fascinating.

There are very few people about. The air smells fresh and full of promise.

I am reminded of Pedras d'el Rei, long ago, with my mother and my aunt.

There is string on the ground. All in Portugal know this string. Letters come tied in it, and the postmen just drop it anywhere.

I wonder if it is like this anywhere else...

I marvel at the city which still sleeps.

I used to go to bed at five, or later.

To-day I rose at half six and went for a walk.

Why is there emotion?