A post-equinox inventory, then: sticky doors, squeaky shoes, kitchen under renovation, barky dog, shhhneaky cigarettes (oof), eating candy bars for the sake of putting something in my mouth (and feeling annoyed with myself afterwards); the absence of swifts, unfinished letters and emails and projects, always the growing to-do list, no more flowers in the verges or along woodland paths (but rosehips, rowan berries, blackberries, and mushrooms), world economy woes, a face that feels permanently squinched, overdoing social engagements, underdoing yoga, going through the motions until it’s 5 PM and being too exhausted to do anything afterwards but wilt, too hot or cold and I worry that I have covid; bleary mornings and a bleariness of the inner spirit that requires a saline solution, art maybe, to clear all that gunk out.

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