Unquestionably it is spring.

The other day it was lovely for the first time this year. I had no fear that my hands would become cold, and I was suddenly reminded how much I enjoyed being outdoors. I stopped on the bridge and stared at the river for a few minutes. (A digression confession - I do this as much for the benefit of other pedestrians as for myself. I'm always hoping someone will see me doing this, happen to glance to their right, and say to themselves, "Oh!", and then fall in love with something. When I see other people leaning against the railing and staring adoringly at the river it makes me unspeakably happy.) I like to use this time to compose bromidic descriptions of the river. That time I came up with "a carpet of gold" - "The sun laid a carpet of gold across the surface of the water." Everyone has secret, shameful pastimes like this, I'm sure.

The other blessing was that this development coincided with the advent of Daylight Savings Time. Many people have been bemoaning the changing of the clocks, but I think it had the rather nice effect of springing spring upon us, reintroducing us to the sun just when it is becoming pleasant again.

The only downside is that this also seems to coincide with a terrible desire to be in love.