Dawn in three acts

Behind St Godric's church, the thinnest wash of sky blue is almost hidden by wispy clouds, like a stack of grey and pink veils.

Down by the river, the colours are separating: grey behind the cathedral, while a rose blossoms above the knife blade of the leisure centre's electric lighting.

Beyond the deep end of the pool, the glass wall is filled with a mottled purple grey bruise, fading while I swim to the bleak off white of a winter morning.

Back by the river, the resident heron is unimpressed.