We walk in the sun in hundreds

Early morning English village ambience takes inspiration from Tomas Transtromer's wonderful poem "The Half-Finished Heaven", as we attempt to translate these words into a reimagination of the source sound that evokes some of the simple joy and complex melancholy of a bright summer morning:

Despondency breaks off its course.
Anguish breaks off its course.
The vulture breaks off its flight.

The eager light streams out,
even the ghosts take a draught.

And our paintings see daylight,
our red beasts of the ice-age studios.

Everything begins to look around.
We walk in the sun in hundreds.

Each man is a half-open door
leading to a room for everyone.

The endless ground under us.

The water is shining among the trees.

The lake is a window into the earth.