I love London’s great Victorian cemeteries. They are the closest we have to wild woodland, dotted with bizarre gothic artefacts. Children’s cemeteries, of course (there’s one at Kensal Rise, another at Beckenham) are intensely poigant. But the adult ones, on a sunny day, are magically peaceful. It’s where we’re all heading, and nobody is going anywhere else. This shot was taken in Abney Park (Stoke Newington). For my book on Shostakovich I had to listen to nearly a hundred CD’s. So I took there a little portable player (with headphones, of course) a big rug – and I spread out under the trees, invisible in my secluded spot, with only birdsong for company. Beats work for a living.