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The sun has gone up and the street-BBQ has come to an end. After a night filled with chat, neighbours, friends, food, drink and even some live music it is finally time to give into the wee small hours of the morning and go to bed.

So while the first early risers start to stir in their beds and the morning beckons them back into being, I will drift off into the land of dreams for a few wee hours.

It is 5am, more morning than night, a new day waiting, filled with promise under the pink haze of the sun awakening. But I will let the tinted light soften my reality and cushion my sleep. And while I rest I leave you with Frank Sinatra and his “Wee Small Hours of the Morning”

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