Neil Hopcroft

The ringing of last nights Army gig still in my ears – I’d not noticed it until I got to the countryside, away from the aural footprint of the city. Its a beautiful moonlit night out there, mist licking the edges of the fields, rolling off the river. You can see why the lunatics came out on nights like this.

And perhaps I’m one of them. Standing alone on the deserted track down to the lock, admiring the faint orange glow of Cambridge to the south and the green clear signal in the distance to the north. Suddenly theres a siren and bright flashing lights. I’m broken out of the spell of nature by the roaring of diesel traction heading north, into the clear. Green turns red as the noise fades into the distance.