I love the liminal times of day: dawn and dusk, when the subtle tipping from darkness to light (or vice versa) occurs, often with colourful skies and the sound of birdsong. (I felt really thrown when I visited the Seychelles and night came down like a theatre curtain).
A day off work is a real treat for me at the moment, as it means that I get to enjoy the dusk. Today I've watched it from inside the house, as I was VERY GLAD to be inside after having locked myself out (the neighbour who has a spare key wasn't there, so I sat shivering on the door step for some time, then invited myself round to another neighbour, who cheered me up with camomile tea, and a spare key for the neighbour who has out key result!). Hooray for wonderful neighbours.
But last Tuesday, whilst en route to the KTog, I was at the local bus stop. The sky was glowing (that inimitable winter combination of grey with apricot pink highlights) and two swans flew over. It was magical. Fortunately the lengthening days mean that I'm now heading off to work at dawn, rather than in total darkness.