Weather which ought to be unpleasant but isn't. Ought to be avoided by staying inside, but we went out and didn't regret it. The murky atmosphere brought with it a sense of anticipation, of coffee back home, of shutting out the cold and lighting the fire.
An atmosphere with a warming drop something more nebulous too. A Dickensian something which long ago wormed its way into what we are - but is destined to be forgotten.


