Spring is coming. Though you wouldn't know it from the apocalyptic rain and wind, the sun has a slightly warmer glow, the morning air is a shade less arctic and the velvet night sky doesn't shroud the city before afternoon tea has been served.
P.s. Run yourselves a bath, kiddies. Light some candles, put on Bon Iver (if you're truly exhausted), or Serge Gainsbourg (the person tired of Serge is tired of life), tuck into your new issue of I.D. and watch your fingers prune in the glorious warm water.
A soul restoring activity.
x
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