The first time I really realised the wonder of breakfast was during study leave for my GCSEs, aged 15. It was a magical time, a time that has taken on mythic proportions now, with hindsight.My friends and I were suddenly granted all this time off, and the idea of shutting ourselves indoors to stare at books amid the glorious May sunshine seemed criminal. We searched for ways to meet up without outright looking like we were skiving off our exam revision until we found the perfect solution: breakfast. It was genius: we had to eat breakfast anyway – why not do it outside, together? It was like a loophole in the strict guidelines of structured home study. I woke up extra early for breakfast that was actually a date in the park, a catch-up with a friend or even just a stroll around the neighbourhood enjoying the sun.
Leisurely outdoor breakfasts remain one of my favourite pastimes. Refried kebabs on the patio with hungover housemates during uni, peanut butter on toast and zooming my way through every published Hendrix biography whilst completing my dissertation, fresh coffee on Camden canal with my bandmates, orange juice and fruit salad in James’s garden. I took these pictures of the first decent outside breakfast I had this year; a three hour affair in the garden of my parent’s house. Pancakes with berries and fresh lemonade, joined by Cloyd the snail and my Dad’s impressive nut butter collection (peanut, cashew, almond and hazelnut – talk about goals). Breakfast has always been my favourite meal of the day – best enjoyed with good company, local wildlife, third helpings and no clocks. May all your breakfasts be in sunlight.