Whilst we are under a blanket of snow in the UK - although as I type, the sunshine in the South is doing a mighty fine job of melting it all away, I know my Northern chums are not so lucky - and as much as I really do adore Winter - I can sometimes struggle to recall what warmth from the sun feels like during these months.
It may have been the wettest Summer on record, but there were some glorious days sprinkled into the deluge. Encouraged by my Vintage Style Cycle a couple of months previous, with my own bike fully restored to peddling glory and with a new seat under my rump, I headed off for a nice cycle to Epsom Downs one day in late August last year.
I took with me a simple lunch, a bottle of water, a table cloth to sit on and a blank pad of paper in order to get some book ideas down.
I spent a glorious afternoon in solitude, munching on banana, rolling the occasional smoke and writing a lot more than I thought I could. The grass was warm and dry, the breeze was welcome, a few horses were saddled and sauntering. In the distance someone was flying a model Spitfire.
It was a wonderful memory that has warmed me upon this chilly day and one that encourages me to remember that the sun does come out, the snow melts and the rain dries.