I was puttering down the A46 on my way to work this morning and Warwickshire was looking beautiful. The fields and trees were covered in white frost and the dawn was an explosion of colours. You lot next door in the "Gone Away" room must have been affecting me badly because I was musing on how I'd journal the sunrise and how amazing it looked. A borrowed phrase (I can't remember who from) kept running through my mind and the phrase was "rosy fingered dawn." As I rode through Stratford-upon-Avon the phrase kept repeating over and over in my mind. Then whilst I was stopped at the lights I started to laugh as saw the phrase a whole different way...
