We set off just after dawn, when the first threads of light begin to weave through a sky still heavy with the night’s rain. The air is cool and thick with moisture, and the road beneath us shines darkly, mirroring the clouds above. Across the pasture, flocks of seagulls stand in still formation, their white feathers sharp against the dark, muted green.
We set off later than usual this morning. The season is turning, and the darker dawns seem to lull even Carys into a slower start. She waits more patiently now for the light to arrive, as if she, too, understands that some things are worth waiting for.
We set out at six, when the world still belongs to the dark. The farm road stretches ahead—a ribbon of shadow — and the beam of my head torch carves out a circle of light within the darkness. Beyond it, everything dissolves into quiet mystery. No silhouettes of joggers, no familiar figure of the early dog walker this morning—only me and Carys, the rhythm of our steps echoing faintly off the damp road.
The mornings come slower now. When I wake, the light hasn’t yet found its way through the curtains—just that deep, blue-grey half-light that feels neither night nor day. Carys is already awake, stretching at the foot of the bed, tail thudding softly against the floor. She knows the routine, and she’s always ready before I am.
Our morning walk is quiet, calm, and familiar—the kind of day where nothing demands to be photographed, and yet everything seems worthy of notice.
I am designing this project entirely from the ground up. Guided by a passion for minimalism, my goal is to create a journal that is clean, simple, and focused—allowing the words and images to take center stage.
Today marks the beginning of a new creative journey — the birth of a journal that will, in time, evolve into a personal chronicle of my wild wanderings — a space to gather the quiet stories the landscape has to offer.
This journal will be a blend of narrative and poetic reflection — a living record of the connection between man and nature. I invite you to walk beside us for a while, to see the world through our steps, and to share in the simple beauty of the wild.