There is no doubt about it: I am lost. Deep in the Prussian-blue darkness of Somerset woods, I have spiralled into an almost trackless centre.
I take a deep breath and step outside the car, leaning back against the thin metal door.
There is barely a breath of wind or sound, and it is the mildest of winter nights.
As I lean backwards I look up. Above me a new horizon unfolds;
a whole sky-blanket of darkness lit through by a million pale lemon stars.
My work, too, has journeyed into new horizons: the search for light and colour in unexpected places.