Today it feels like spring: the breeze is balmy, the sun shines warm and welcoming, birds cheep and flutter in the bountiful hedges, and the sap rises audibly in tree, plant and weed. Hullo clouds, hullo sky . . . It’s amazing how much of a psychological lift you get when all is blissful and …
When priapic songster Sting, in his pretentious post-Police lite-jazz phase, sang that love is the seventh wave, he was of course referencing the myth that in the sea, waves travel in groups of seven, with the seventh being the largest. This idea comes up quite a lot in our culture. Henri Charriere, otherwise known as …
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