Today was one of those days which most people will say was cold, grey and full of icy rain. Most people will say that it never really got light. Those people didn't see the sunrise.
It was 4C below when I set out and the ice was sitting on the teasels at the side of the road, stiff through the freezing fog. Leaving the fen-edge, where the land rises a little, the dawn light started to break through between the layers of mist and the low cloud turning the slow running river Ouse to molten brass. A little later, stuck in traffic, the sun made a glorious appearance, orange like a flourescent fishing float. The iced plants and trees at the side of the road glistened like carved white marble. The teasels combed the face of the sun into fractured patterns. The clouds overhead went from grey to crimson for a few moments. Just then my car, on random play, selected Ave Maria so I turned the volume to max and had the closest thing to a conversion experience that I've ever had.
Being a sad and possibly too proud person, I declined to be converted stuck on the road to Tesco due to a track selection by an automobile and reserved that pleasure for another day.
Disappointed, I suppose, the Sun climbed above the thin crack in the cloud, the world turned icy grey and it started to rain.