Harvest

Harvest time is finally here again. The great wheat field behind us throws up clouds of dust as the machines reap and bind.

This is the best time to be in Norfolk, in my view. Long lazy days of sun and intermittent showers; the occasional plunge into the North Sea, breakers and all; magical nights of moon shadows across the lawn.

After the exhilaration and relief of finishing the first movement of the Trio in April, I have been taking stock of my output, revising and editing old works, and writing short pieces for a CD of 'mood music' which a local composer and friend is publishing. I know I should finish the trio. I will.

With trepidation I listened again to 'For the Fallen'. I hate listening to old pieces in case I find I don't like them any longer. But I was left determined to do everything in my power to get this piece, of which I am still very proud, to a wider audience. I don't want to look back on my life at eighty and think, if only I had tried harder. Stuck out in Norfolk it is hard to network and make the connections so essential to raising one's profile in the world. Thank God for email and the internet. Long may it stay cheap and available to all.