On The 6:28

The turning back of the clocks has meant that the stern faced, silent crowd that board the 6.28 train from Andover to London are surrounded by darkness during the long minutes that tick by before the train arrives and many of the crowd can return to sleep when they commandeer a seat.

I've taken to grabbing the seat outside the main carriage, you know, the one that pulls down like a cinema chair but only gives you a view of the grey walls of the train, or even worse, is outside the toilet. As the train pulls away, I look out of the window and see the same darkness for the entire twenty minutes that I am on board before my stop arrives.

But there was something different about a recent journey.

The carriages were all changed around, causing chaos to the 6.29 faithful who have gotten used to knowing exactly which concrete slabs to stand on so that they can get through the doors first. When I managed to grab the cinema seat, I realised that something else was different. I was facing the other way, the direction that the train was headed for.

And rather than staring into the pitch darkness of a cold, miserable November morning, there was something else for my eyes to focus on; the splintering of the darkness and the emerging sun rapidly raising the curtain on a brand new day.

Sure, there was darkness behind me. But in front of me was something altogether more exciting.