We've been away for a quick week in Tenerife - blazing sunshine does wonders for the cerebral matter. I am a summer person; I'm never happier than when in the sun, feeling my inner self unfold and become somehow less introverted, less 'in myself' as I have a tendency to become over the long months of winter.
But, no matter how wonderful and recharging a week in the sun can be - and believe me, I needed it like nothing else - somehow it wasn't the same as the 40 minutes I just spent sitting on my back step in the first spring sunshine, noticing the first sprouting bulbs, the first tiny leaves on the clematis, reading Wolf Hall and turning my face to the brief heat and thinking 'At last, we're turning the corner.'
Although they promise it will all be gone by Wednesday.
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