I’m back again from the northern lake-lands, bug-bitten, itching and inspired. My hard drive is full of new work. I’m dreaming of canoes and hot summer nights while I’m busy making plans for the autumn. It’s almost my birthday. The meadow is full of new-cut hay and there are foals out on the common. Last night the stars were out in the impossibly blue sky as we walked our bicycles home after Shakespeare at the Bodleian. Tomorrow we’ll pack a picnic, put on hiking boots, and go out. There will be new horizons and ripe berries and a river to walk beside. Afterwards we’ll stop for a pint of ale.
It’s not a bad way to see out one year, and see another in.