"... but here at the riverside, with the light from the fire flickering on the underside of the tree branches overhead, I am not thinking of such things. Surrounded by the darkness which starts just a few metres away at the edge of this small circle of light, river gurgling away unseen just in front of me, hot chocolate in hand, I stare into the dancing flames, 'never still for an instant, in constant motion, yet never changing', just like the river itself. I wonder what I must look like seen from a distance, say from a long way down the river. A tiny oasis of flickering light; a small tent, a motionless figure sitting beside it ... all around the deep dark night ... And such a magical transformation in mood created by just a tiny pile of wood chips and a single match."