Last night when I went to bed, it was early spring. There was a chill wind blowing in under the front door, I had a sweatshirt on over a jersey, in bed my toes slowly warmed and I fell asleep.
05:22 this morning I shuffled down the passage to get some juice for a small girl. The dog lifted her head and asked to be let out.
I stepped out with her, and it was summer.
The dawn was soft and gentle. Woodsmoke still hung in the air from the neighbour's late night party. The crescent moon bobbed above the horizon, her slim silhouette betrayed by the just visible edge of the rest of her fullness, like a party girl stumbling home with her spanx showing.
Birdies twittered, the sky in the east was just starting to pale.
Lego had her wee, I went back to bed, and back to sleep, with my arms out above the covers and the knowledge humming within me, summer's coming ... summer's coming ... summer's coming.