There’s nothing new about this New Year.
I’ve seen it all before.
The wind will blow again through the barley field. The rain will drench the heads of cows on sodden ground. I’ve been here before. There’s nothing new in January’s hang over, nothing new in any mood. But when a snow flake crashes on to the carpet of fallen snow, it transforms all the universe and alters the sightline, irrevocably. The king fisher never dives in the same pool twice. So may it be for you all this old year. Fresh love be on your way around the very next corner.