It has been a long cold winter. This year, it took me by the hand and whisked me away to a cold, dark mess where I couldn’t do much apart from watching stuff and stuffing up my oesophagus.
I didn’t read much, nor did I write anything, not on here, not on my own. It was an overflowing cauldron of leisure, but it felt like detention.
It’s not that I didn’t know what to read or write, I had lists, I had books I got and Kindled, and yet there I was, peering into nothingness, poring over bleakness, my soul mirrored in the grey, steely exteriors.
But the sky has cleared, the blue is making a comeback, my chest feels lighter, my spirits have lifted, I am coming back.
Coming back to consciousness, just like that Bear (whose very private moment of waking up dishevelled has turned into a meme), it does feel like a New Year, finally! I wish you all endless days of blue skies and starry nights in 2026.
Fingers in symphony 