Is it me, or does this blog already have a slight sense of decay about it? A certain autumnal quality? As I look back on those heady early days of the blog, I feel a wry sense of envy, a wistful yearning: for my own youthful confidence. If only I could revisit that gladness I had back then, two days ago, when I started this blog. Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive. But I have tasted the bitter aloes of experience, and drunk from the very gourd of time, and so my world now savours of that direful thing, mortality. My only consolation are the words of Heraclitus. That all Nature is in flux, and all things must pass.
Fancy a pint?