Here Comes The Sun
There is something rather telling about the British relationship with the sun. It only has to appear, not blaze, not commit, just suggest itself, and suddenly everything feels possible again. Plans are made. Coats are removed with a kind of reckless optimism. People sit outside cafés as though they have been personally invited by the Mediterranean. And yet, of course, the clouds have not gone anywhere. They have just stepped aside for a moment. Which makes you wonder whether it is not the sun that changes things, but our sudden awareness of what has been sitting over us all along. This morning, by the marina, coffee in hand, cake doing its quiet but important work, I found myself sitting with a neighbour, putting the world to rights in that way one does when there is no particular urgency to anything. A small moment. An unplanned one. But one of those moments that gently resets the day. And it struck me that 2026 has had its fair share of cloud. Professional ones, certainly. The ...