With my family slumbering away in their beds I arrive downstairs a little after seven to start a new day, push back the long curtains to flood the room with light, and prop open the door to my green garden. After shuffling back to the kitchen to make coffee, I sink into the soft chair with my writing book beside me open and ready for words. On the whole this has become my daily routine, at least during the school summer holidays when I’m lucky to get an hour of peace and quiet before the day begins proper.

Sitting motionless and peering through the open door, I first notice the slender leaves of a tall ornamental grass swaying in the breeze, a Miscanthus, then a drop of dew gently falling to the ground from the leafy tip of a spider plant on the patio table. Above those, long clear rays of light are reaching over the garden fence and illuminating about a third of the garden, the larger remaining space still in shade. The garden is calmly easing itself into the day, much like myself.

With a constant hush of vehicles in the distance, it’s obvious that for many folk the day is already on the move, the sound of the traffic setting a monotonous base tone for the not so great outdoors. For a few moments, noise from the ground is overtaken

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