There are winter days when the sun paints the treetops gold and you suddenly realise it's the first time you've seen that golden light in months. Those winter days when the cold still grabs hold of you with its icy claws, but then you hear a bird singing and you wonder if you're mistaken, maybe you fell asleep and woke up two or three months later and it's spring.
Those winter days you want to lie down on your back somewhere where that golden light can reach you. You want to climb up high, maybe on a hill, because the sun is already so low when you finally leave work. You want to lie down and look up, and pretend that the world is upside down and that the sky is an ocean and the clouds are ships. You think about going running, the perfect way to enjoy a beautiful day such as this, but then your mind wanders off to other days, days when you were a kid, being lazy in the sun. You remember your head leaning against the window of a warm car on such a sunny winter afternoon, on your way back home from a day trip with your parents. The sun caressing your face as your hands cradle a mug of hot chocolate during a snack break to a Sunday hike up the mountains. Reading your favourite book by the window. And then all you want to do is curl up like a cat and get lost in the memories. There will be time for running later. This light is only fleeting still, anyway.