Venus flickers. The car is tongued with frost; the brook's murmur deep and low. Already the birds are in the courtyard, waiting; yesterday the robin followed me and Dog into the house, expectantly.
I have been thinking of my mum, her atoms and dreams dispersing, but her presence everywhere – in these new hyacinth bulbs, in the dawn light, in my heart at five o'clock.
On the radio the other day I heard a word from Old English that means something like 'waking up before the dawn and remaining sleepless'. We are not alone.