After a day of carefully choosing who was going to master my new EP, ‘Winter Keys’, I prepared to go for a very necessary walk.
I had spent too much time indoors just lately, carefully listening to my new recordings and making notes about what needed doing. The fresh, Cornish air beckoned, and I hastened to wrap myself up in layers of warmth. I was just about to leave the house, when a message arrived informing me that my tracks were now mastered and ready to be listened to. I was torn. I needed to listen to the tracks, but I was in a rush to go out!
I found it difficult to apply myself to patiently concentrate and check the music back – I always found this excruciating as I imagined all sorts of things occurring in the music which no one else could hear. After a brief listen, I finally set off on my walk in an attempt to unmuddle my mind.
A quick walk around the block on this crisp afternoon was the plan. The sun shone brightly, giving the impression of warmth, but it was no warmer than looking at the light which came on as you opened the door to the fridge! The season was on the cusp between winter and spring. Fresh, bright green leaves were sprouting up optimistically amidst the dead, dry twigs which littered the verges.
Here and there, clumps of buttery primroses showed their pretty, dainty faces. Explosions of golden gorse buds burst forth out of the thorny tangles. The fields all around were lit up by glorious daffodils in their hazy hues. Occasionally, as I walked along, delighting in the emergence of spring, the remnants of winter remained as the brambly earth guts wrapped their spilling tendrils around my feet, urging me to trip over.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could make out the pom pom shape of wrens as they bumbled and flit about in the dense branches. They were the embodiment of nature’s cartoonish cuteness. I paused to take some video clips for my vlog, and noticed as I checked it back, that there appeared to be strange glowing orbs whirring about on the footage, which I hadn’t noticed when I was filming. Perhaps it was just the reflection of the strong glare of the setting sun – or maybe an innocuous insect – quite drab in reality, which had somehow managed to reflect the sun’s rays.
Hope was in the air, and the smell of a new season filled my nostrils. The sweet scent of spring was breaking through the earthy musk of winter.