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I arrived home last night at about 7.30.  At 9 or so we decided to put on our walking boots and go for a late night stroll across the nearby fields.  The sky was festooned with stars, the long grass snapped crisply underfoot, threatening a frost, the stream rushed past and, somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted.  I had to remind myself – this is not Mitcham.

I have been installed in Somerset since last Thursday and even though many things of mine are still in cardboard boxes, and even though I have spent many hours in London for work and matters relating to the London house, I am already waking in the night and expecting to be here rather than anywhere else.  It is worth mentioning that I do less waking in the night in any case, for the bedroom is not only blissfully quiet, but also remarkably dark, almost scarily so on the first night.

The move itself was, I would guess, fairly smooth, although I do not have a great store of knowledge for comparison, the most difficult bit being getting my digital organ up the stairs.  Some fruity language was used, but the instrument is in place as if it had been designed specifically for that spot.

The aspect of the move which concerns me most is the driving, but I know that this aspect will calm down in a couple of months, at which stage I could get very used to this way of living indeed.  The locals have been utterly charming and welcoming, the High Street is three minutes away, and – did I mention it already? – it’s so quiet!

Despite my very best efforts, I have not been able to spend as much time on my writing this week as I would have liked, mainly because of the move, but also because I am just finding my rhythm in this new life.  I need and am looking forward to finishing the piano score of the Carta Cantata as soon as I can, and this remains my top priority after its successful first playthrough last week.  I meet with the commissioner again this evening and am keen to agree a sharply defined plan of attack for the next few weeks.

For the next few days it is London, working up to the Parliament Choir’s performance of the Verdi Requiem in Westminster Cathedral on Wednesday, conducted by Simon Over, sold out.  With our friends from the Malcolm Sargent Festival Choir, the St. Michael’s Singers and Anghiari it promises to be quite an occasion.  Afterwards I shall mount my trusty steed, head westwards and hide here in the country for a few days to do my writing, maybe go for a walk, look at the stars and listen to the owls.