The birds march around on the frozen river Arno, their own private museum, with their feathers puffed out as slowly winter begins to melt beneath them. It has been a very cold two months in Florence. But the sun is steadily gaining momentum and soon we will be done with our heavy coats, our woolen lined boots, our scarves and gloves... Music will fill the piazza's and gelato our belly's... sunshine will warm our hearts. And I can't wait. So long winter.