It is grey. It is gloomy. And it is raining. And yet, I like it. No, I haven’t gone crazy yet (though it was hard at times, not to); I haven’t suddenly fallen in love with winter either. I only like it because it is, slowly, melting the famous (the boyfriend has emailed half the world about them) thirty centimetres of snow outside.

And with the snow gone, it will be easier to focus on the light that lingers on a little later every day. And then I will be able to believe that spring is coming closer.

And summer will be really nice.