It’s been a clammy creeper of a spring in London. Cold and damp with febrile winds. The season won’t seem to settle.
Last Sunday, in the absence of a more exciting plan, I took Frank for a late afternoon walk on the Heath. We parked on one of those tiny cobbled streets up at the top lined with sweet little terraced gingerbread cottages worth the price o…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Juvenescence to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.