With the breeze blowing in from the window beside me and a neighbour mowing his lawn (nothing smells as good as freshly mown grass), these pictures by the Selby are perfect for today.
(Yesterday marked yet another birthday so off we went, clutching ukuleles and flowers and bottles of wine, slotting our legs through the balcony railings and watching the seagulls at sunset, dancing on slippery floors, conniving in bathrooms and collapsing onto beds to get over our fits of laughter.
Windows opening onto a courtyard with a fountain. Cobble-stoned streets, spontaneous bouts of spoken-word poetry after midnight. The silly blues that strike me sometimes at parties, easier to bear when there are good people around me.
And when I got off the train sometime after three a.m. after what felt like the longest-ever journey home, the birds were singing and the sun had begun to rise. This marks the beginning of summer.)