18th January

The afternoon light has a pure, snow-reflected quality to it.

Pheasant - 7th January

I'm slowing down as my car approaches the junction and notice the pheasant strolling on the verge. He continues to stroll, saunters out into what would have been an oncoming vehicle had I not slowed down. He's oblivious - an aristocrat to my plebian mode of transport.

5th January - Rain

I am up before first light for chauffeur duties to the railway station. The day has a raw skinless feeling but as I return home the rain starts to fall like a whispered kiss.

4th January

 I return to play in familiar places, skirting Gordon Square on my way to the university bookshop as benign ghosts trail in my wake

Third of January

The autumn planted onions have sprouted - so green against the dark earth

Up for the Prize

Not one but two poets short-listed for the prize – such an achievement for a small nation and both of them women which adds to the feeling of joy.

First Small Stone on 2013

The early morning Robin reaches the feeders before the ducks are let out of their house and rewards me with a song for the gift of corn.