Everybody has them and everyone’s are different.
If you must have them at all, let them be your own. That is what I have learned today.
I always knew life in a Georgian house could not help but be elegant and so it is proving to be. The lower windows let in the light but the high ceilings cast a sufficiency of murk to make a dark corner for yourself, if needed. A door is ajar from the conservatory and a thick shaft of light is littered with leaf shadows that skitter and flicker like the wind galloping round a zoetrope.
The rain has bedraggled just about anything and everything recently, so much so, if there was any spring, I’ve missed it.
It was good to look up today and see these fellas in the park. Ok, they were a little wan and shy, as if they had no business being there but, I am sure, if the sun ever pitches itself into the sky again, they’ll soon be acting as if they own the place. I can’t wait. And, specifically, I can’t wait to the tune of ‘Reelin’ in the Years’ by Steely Dan.