It's twenty past five in the evening, I have been stitching butterfly scales across the hind wing of a Camberwell Beauty butterfly all afternoon, now the tiny stitches have merged into shadow; receded into the shade of tired eyes no longer bright enough to focus attention.

As day light fades my energy inevitably ebbs; like a songbird I feel compelled to abandon my studio perch and seek a more homey nesting place. This evening however, though darkness has fallen, I can still hear songbirds; beautiful, bright, lyrical notes striking the heartstrings of Spring. Rain is pattering hypnotically on my studio roof... roosting calls echo from the rookery in the ancient woods in a reassuringly ancient way.

There is perhaps nothing more beautiful than the meditation of peace and quiet, unlike silence it holds gentle phrases and whispered promises. I think I'll rest here a while before I go in, my eyes may be tired but my ears are wide awake!

A stitch in time

Time, I've felt a bit short of it lately. Most of us feel frustrated 'from time to time' that we don't seem to have enough of the stuff. Truth of it is, we all have the same quota every day; twenty four hours, divided up into minutes, then seconds. Why is it then that 'sometime' flies and 'sometime' drags...that time 'sometimes' seem to have different measurement values.

Waiting in a memory clinic earlier this week to discuss my Mum in law's sufferance of Alzheimer's, time all but stopped. Minutes felt like hours, forty minutes like an eternity. Our perception of time was undoubtably further skewed by the outdated tatty mags, headlining last years trends and news. Why maybe we'd been trapped there since 2012, according to 'The Telegraph Sunday supplement - April 2012', it was possible we'd been waiting years! Visiting the loo presented with the only thing to do, so to alleviate the boredom and pass the time, I fantasised it may be a Tardis! Alas, predictably and disappointingly, the door opened back into the waiting room. Patients and conscience of course dictated that we continue to wait quietly, we were after all seeking help and understanding for a loved one for whom the parameters of time now hold nothing but confusion.

Conversely, back in my studio this afternoon, true to the adage: 'time flies when your enjoying yourself', it's flown! I'm sat out here in the glow of tungsten light, the darkest of winters nights pressing up against the windows, wandering what happened. A whole afternoon, all that scope I had to get things done now shallower than the beam from my angle poise lamp.

I have finished working the miniature silk stitches across a Camberwell Beauty's wing though. Perhaps I should count time, not in seconds but in stitches...silk 'butterfly scale' stitches, each one worked gently and contentedly. Anyhow, tomorrow is a brand new day, with lots of scope. Actually, on reflection, I hope it flies like the best of them!