Writing in the new year

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo


So, New Year’s Day dawned… a time when the sun rose in a sky that looked like a pastel painting over a frosted landscape, when the world was silent, largely hungover and all partied out. It had been a quiet and very early night at mine, with the inexcusably early start catching up with both my guest and I long before midnight. The last thing I had heard was Ani warning off revellers.

I scraped the ice from the car… the first real sign of winter. The roads were empty as I drove to work, leaving my guest already reading through the final draft of the opening ritual of the April workshop.

starlings new year 2015 015

A kestrel waited for me in a tree, swooping down as I drove past. A buzzard perched on a fence, waiting for the sun to rise and its breakfast to wake. My son was already up and talking…

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