We beat the sun into Heathrow, and I wandered what to me seemed like barren Soho streets — a gent in front of me noted, There are so many people out this morning — until my coffee spot opened. I filled a roll of film, terribly sleep-deprived.
I’d been hoping for some milder winter weather, but it hovered around freezing the whole week. I missed most of the sunlight while in Cambridge, so I didn’t take any more photos. Even in the last morning hours before leaving, it was too chilly to expose fingers for focusing and shutter-releasing.
But there was a steaming bowl of soup at an empty restaurant table, lots of golden windows one twilight along Trumpington Rd, and sparkling lights for the season, including arcs of stars bursting off the sides of buildings.
