I basked in the warmth of the sun this morning. It is always the best part of winter and my only consolation. Nothing about the cold season excited me, not even the snug blankets, hot meals and soup, my favourite book or nook. Nothing, except those few moments under the sunlight when my body stopped fighting the chilling breeze and gave in to the warmth of the sun. Isn’t there a word for it? I think it is apricity. Yes, it is apricity. And, I once loved a man who was like that, like the warmth of the sun on a wintery day. It is sad how he didn’t last long and I had to wait for another winter to see him or experience long cold days to appreciate that fleeting moment of warmth. Perhaps, I think, the feeling is best left unassociated with him.