Solis

What is it about sunshine?

Its rays have worked their way into my psyche and are trying to fill all those half empty cups that the long winter has left lingering there.

A walk through the city at lunchtime is warming to this long frozen optimist's core, and the dowdy buildings of London almost wink at you, knowing that they are bathing in the golden hue of spring.

The season is something to behold, and our messy cares can be washed away, for a time, if we let them.

A pair of oysters and Kentish wine with Laura, a quick coffee on Fleet Street with Gel, a punch in the arm from one of my siblings. Any one of my absent carebears would make the picture more perfect than the ones that are here already do.

He that will enjoy the brightness of sunshine, must quit the coolness of the shade.
SAMUEL JOHNSON

I feel it all

My moon my man.

Eternal life is now on my trail.

Got me my requiem coffin man, just need one last nail.

There's no time for hatred, only questions.

Where is love, where is happiness?

What is life? Where is peace?

When will I find the strength to bring me what I need?

Tell me, where is the truth in what your prophet has said?

You better turn around and blow your kiss good bye.

Too young to hold on, to old to just break free and run.

You never give me your money, you only give me your funny paper.

I never give you my number, I only give you my situation. And in the middle of negotiation you break down.

But oh, that magic feeling. Know where to go.

One sweet dream, pick up the the bags and get in the limousine.

Soon we'll be away from here, step on the gas and wipe that tear away.

One sweet dream came true today.

1,2,3,4,5,6,7. All good children go to heaven.

Here comes the sun.

*crickets*

Jigsaw Puzzles

For a long time in London, all the pieces have fit together. Suddenly, with the removal of a few; a couple of dear friends, the good time certainty that a stable economy intrinsically provides, the realisation of how far away the most important people in my life seem to be, I'm feeling a bit like that lingering awkward piece who is left in the jigsaw box.

I suppose it is the late winter blues. I am vitamin D deprived: unlikely to see sustained sun for a while given the British spring's propensity for spontaneous downpour and billowing grey.

Let me describe for you this homesickness.

If you think about it too hard it settles like bricks on your chest and feels like your heart is broken. It is the total, utter, complete longing for your loved ones and knowing that a simple touch from your sister, a hug from your mum, an understanding look from your grandmother, could lift the bricks away.

It is the frustration of being angry at yourself for not being able to derive satisfaction from loving the friends where you are and the life that you have made. And it is also the crippling and paradoxical knowledge that the grass always grows greener on the south side, and that it aint nearly so green when you are standing on it..

Things feel remarkably like a house of cards. One strong breeze could blow me over and take me with it. I said earlier this year that I thought 'Rambling Woman was a good song for me. I still do. Reconciling my current bout of missing the Oz will eventually subside. The routine will iron out the wrinkles, and what is left won't be half bad. But until the slings and arrows will let me off their rollercoaster, I will feel like somebody has angled a magnifying glass right at my heart and is burning holes in it with the thin and wintry English sun.

A little dramatic perhaps, but at the moment, that's what it feels like.