Look outside, I know that you’ll recognise that it’s summertime

You may spend weeks and months gazing at dreary grey skies and bare brown branches, desperately hoping for change, waiting to see the days get brighter again.

They always will. Spring and rebirth always come back, the light will elongate, we will reach for the sun, desperate for its love.

My new hood, a promising place to emerge, phoenix-like, from the ashes.