But in her head, she believed what Einstein had suggested. The enigma of The Universe itself was answered in mathematics. Mushing was all about timing. It was about the rhythm of dog and man - synchronicity of movement, elegance. And sometimes, the movement of her bow across the strings of her violin reminded her of the swish and glide of the runners on a sled ride in the snow.

Music teaches us about lyricism in writing, a delicate turn of phrase, selectiveness with words, rhythmic passages. Most of all, music, like good writing, touches our emotions with cadences that slip in like a subtle visitor, familiar and known before.

Nigel half-smiled. How Stella's eyes sparkled in the firelight!"I heard you play the violin very well.""I play a few tunes."Stella Chapman's voice tailed off, her red hair fell forward, screening her face."And you?" Billy said, diverting attention to the sandy-haired questioner. "What do you plan to do with the rest of your life?"Nigel went quiet."Anything, I guess." He threw out his arms, his palms facing upward. How would they understand? Only he had lived his life.

Poems are the music of our childhoods