At 4 am my mother calls and I emerge blinking into the light. My mother is wobbling, she needs a hand to steady her to the bathroom. Later, when I cannot return to sleep, I read an article in the newspaper about how we are losing empathy and the ability to concentrate because we are distanced from each other and always distracted by our screens. I think about this and the need for a steady hand as I watch the dawn slowly break, the sky turn from blue to yellow, the frosted leaves sparkling on the pavement outside the house.

The home of writer Bronwen Griffiths