This book seemed to arrive almost already written. First came the death of a dear friend and mentor, the poet and playwright Tom MacIntyre.  I had a winter to grieve. And then came the lockdown which turned out to be an extraordinary silence all around me and a time to contemplate and reflect on death and life, on the suffering that was all around us in the lockdown and on the beauty and joy that is visible at the heart of everything, like a faint light in the shadows. I claim it’s the final book in my series of memoir. But who knows?  I thought I’d only write one memoir, and look where I am now. This is number six. But this is the one that sums up everything for me. Maybe even a book that I feel changes my entire view of life.