Perhaps you remember, last year, I journeyed to the far-flung place of west west London known as Uxbridge. And I stumbled upon this magical window filled with birds.
Well, for whatever reason - actually, for a very specific whatever reason: a book I'd perused on rituals at the local university library - was calling me back. So I put myself on the Metropolitan line and didn't get off till the last stop.
And as I walked back from the library, having failed to locate the book that inspired my journey, there was the window and there were the birds, just as they were - only one year later - as if nothing had happened at all.
Some things are so comforting like that.
Pictures follow. Enjoy!
"What do you think she's looking at Roger?"
"I don't know, Simon. Well, I mean, us, obviously."
"I'm going to stare her down."
Still staring: "Well strange lady? Is this going to become a ritual?"