In mid-winter the sun is so low in the sky it barely reaches the garden. The one patch of sun gathers visitors to it at the north end and I glare at them cold and grumpy from the cold office door - "they must be up to no good to be up the back in this weather!"
Now the year has turned it is back beaming along the canyons of the city and got me right in the eyes at the gate. Won't be long before I'm hot and grumpy.
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