Between the clocks going back and the shortest day is my fallow period. I watch the days drain into the night and sulk and grump about how, really, we should be hibernating, not getting up in the dark and coming home from work in the dark, and this takes all my energy.
Aghast I was, therefore, when the homework set by Colin Brown in the Poetry Can poetry writing group turned out to be a crown of sonnets. Hard enough when day wanes past ten at night, but when it's dark at four and I just want to sleep, impossible.
Except there's nothing like a deadline and peers who are writing out of their skins and the need to avoid public shame to get those frozen fingers tapping on laptop keys, and I've done it just about - a crown of sonnets about the seven species to be found in the West Country of my favourite bird genus, corvus (crow).
Which is fine except that now I feel the need to make them in fused glass also. Here's the first one, an homage to the chough - emblem of Cornwall, for several decades extinct there and now re-established back in its granite homeland.