I put my jumper on for the first time in three weeks.

It has been cold at night. I wake up at 4 every day, pretty much. I go to the bathroom and crawl back into bed, double fold the single sheet like puff pastry and swathe myself in it like a sausage roll. And then I sleep a couple more hours and then I get up and I start doing Things.

I’m on a boat to the far peninsula. It’s cold and windy and I have put on my jumper. For the first time in three weeks. I’m wearing shorts, still. Shorts and a jumper. I think that’s me. It’s a look I don’t see often but it’s how I feel most comfortable, I think. It’s me.

It’s not a particularly nice jumper. Just grey.

The sun has gone now. It’s got work to do in the Pacific. Meetings in Japan. But it put on a good show. I’ve never seen a sky so undeniably the colour of fruit. Peaches, reds, pinks, yellows. Even some aubergine, at the end.

Back home the sky is only blue or grey. No fruit that colour. No healthy fruit anyway. But it is like my jumper. Maybe that’s why I feel at home.