It always captivates me how the seasons manifest themselves physically. After months of dark, cold, winter mornings, you step outside and the sun is warm. Warm enough to soothe your skin, bright enough to adjust your gaze. Bristol stops being 50 shades of grey and the sandstone starts to reflect the colour of the sky. Blossom surprises at street corners and daffodils sneak out of the ground. All of a sudden, everything's looking up again. The cynicism, loneliness and isolation of winter, that you didn't realise you were carrying around inside, starts to dissolve and you can't help but exclaim 'it's March! It's March!' to all your friends. 

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