It is Spring now. In typical fashion, small buds and shoots are tentatively stretching awake from the long (and unusually harsh, by British standards) winter. I have watched them stir from their earth-warm beds.

Birds are appearing, once more. Blackbirds chirrup, constantly, their black wings tracing a choppy flight through (sometimes) blue skies. Birds chirrup, even at night, here. I listen to their song as I try to wrap my mind around legal principles, at three in the morning.

The streets are brightly coloured, now. Shades of grey and black have been put away in the wardrobe, stuffed to the backs of drawers. People are going out and about clad in bright yellow macintoshes, cheerful pink jackets and green wellies. On account of warmer weather, I have begun running further and longer; tomorrow, I run to Waterloo.

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Today, I am content.

Today, these are the important things:

walking to sainsbury's under clear sunlight and blue skies, the wind a breath beneath the budding leaves.
purchasing ice cream on offer for the purposes of delayed gratification; the delight of simple joys.
baking in a quiet kitchen, music to my ears.
talking to a sleepy Italian friend; relearning each other's names.
spending time in a familiar room, exchanging moments: slouched on a bed/slouched against a wall, comfortable; knowing - knowing what, i wonder.
peering over a familiar shoulder, reading an unknown language, bemused; one taking the time to explain the beginnings of this new tongue, to the other.
sharing, and the joy it brings.

Today.

These are the important things.

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