A nocturnal stroll is something I really enjoy; taking in the sights at night while the city buzzes around you. This is the Duke of York, independent cinema, which is virtually at the end of my road (the stripy legs on top are bit of a feature). Writing this blog at five in the morning takes its own toll but I would have to give up the walks if I wrote before I got to bed instead of when I rise (and I prefer writing at this time). I am coming to the end of being sixty and I would like to say its been different, but it hasn't - well actually I have written more songs this year than probably any other, and I have published prose poetry this year, which I had never even written before, in fact its been a productive year; some songs, some prose poems and three chapters written, a book co-edited and sent off, papers in Bath and London, a plenary talk in Corfu, a visiting Prof job in Montana, The Boat as an ongoing project, oh and I visited Oklahoma, New Orleans, Montana, Crete and Corfu, and yesterday I even changed the 'nut' on my dobro - a first for me, that one, not bad for slowing down, I guess. And now its 5 am Friday, soon I will be driving to Winchester to teach, all is quiet after bonfire night, the morning air is warm, though there is an eerie wind blowing down the chimney, but the early grey tea is hot and hitting the right spot, I am waking into the day - and I can start it all over again:
