Fish Music

Yesterday I listened to Bach and Scarlatti.
Today I took out some music and sat at the piano. My fingers are stiff, the keyboard dusty, the patterns barely remembered.
First one hand, then the other. left hand right hand both together.

Slow motion. Imperceptible motion, just a bunch of notes, a pile of sticks.
(You would have no such trouble, I imagine, just that would have to bribe you to play. One day I will listen to you play, but i will stand behind you where you won't see me)

After that I went into the sea, which has been doing its best to disguise itself, to shift its shape. Today it was fretful and wrinkled with the hint of a frown from an impertinent breeze. I passed over clouds of whiting like I was a bird in the sky and they were below. A moving vein of swarming bream, a handful or so of tip-tailed tailor. Clouds of sand puffed and blew as the fish moved through them.


A new year: the promise of wonder and so much goodness. A bright and shining year ahead. I have started it with Mozart and champagne, I have looked into the sky and seen fountains of coloured light. Strange and beautiful things await me.
At the turning of the universe I took your hand and pulled you through with me.



Here is the sanctuary for the fairy penguins on New Years Eve. They had lots of space to play, safely sheltered from revellers.




And this is the last sunset upon 2008. Such a strange year, but so full of unexpected gifts among the wild, out of control carnival ride which is my life.

My little family survives. My head is largely intact. I have let go of something huge. At the very end, I was given something lovely.

This year? I welcome all it has to give me. In turn, I have much to give.

Happy New Year.