Dawn, Friday 5 September 2008

As the sun rises I will clamber onto one of the low, flat granite blocks of Bellever Tor. The walk from Bellever Youth Hostel will take an hour, a gentle steady climb through coniferous plantation and heather moor. It may be misty with drizzle. Or the sky may be clear; the air cool, moist and still. I will sit. I will listen, in my head, to the sound of a choir consisting of precisely 17 people. I will remain seated, quietly listening, for one hour, and note what
happens. I will then have a cup of tea.

This will be my requested response to this score.