End-of-January-evenings are painting the skies with pink and orange sunsets. And end-of-January-evenings' light is touching further into my room and longer into the days. Birds going delirious every evening this week between 4.30-5pm, making my last half hour of the day painting go very happily. Their sounds seeming to touch simultaneously on both old memories and future hopes of Spring. How is it that every year Spring feels both old and new?