It Must Be Spring When. . .

. . . you can't walk your cat on the foreshore for all the people making whoopee under the trees.

Sure, it may seem dark out there, but we - that is, the cat, I, and everybody with a riverside view - all could see your silhouettes thrusting away with the sort of vigor and agility trees aren't known for, perfectly backlit by the lights of our fair city and the glow of the moon off the river.

Quite romantic really. Except for being in one of the cat's favourite spots.