Today is the official poise between day and night hours. But it clashes with a rare day to devote to writing and illustrating so I only know that because I just read it on Facebook. I still walk out with Dog. The air is so full of birdsong there’s no room for weather today. My head is packed with bits of story, squashed in like a badly packed suitcase. It gives me a concentration headache and then I drink too much coffee and feel a bit queasy. Described as such this does not sound like a successful day, but all I describe here is the cover, and the book inside it, my own personal journal of today, is perfectly poised and happy with what I have achieved. So happy, it’s bordering on obnoxious.