One evening in Toulouse, outside the shopping centre, struggling to head home and not south where the Mediterranean Sea lies waiting; a foreign shore and an open road, hillsides covered in Thyme which I don’t have enough of any more, maybe never did and which some of that I had was wasted – sentiments that reflect the words of a song I shall listen to in a moment when I give into obligation and duty, a song which also includes the line “we’ve got the sky to talk about and the world to lie upon.”

Right now the November evening is magical, though it will rain later.

The sky is clear, dusk is settling and the few clouds are reflecting the fading sun.

The night is orange.

And the air is crisp with promise, like late winter when it is no longer possible to hide the spring.

Orange hope.

Yet winter comes, the nights will close around me.

You too.