I awoke feeling rather disgusted with myself.  Still gripped in the fist of the glooms that have plagued me these last few days, but now at least able to view the thing more objectively, and wishing to be free of it, rather than wanting only to wallow.

So, how to avoid this association between spring and feelings of loss becoming a proper neurosis to add to my collection?  How better than to dive in headfirst, and go for a walk; taking the widely-held view that exercise is supposed to be a good remedy for depression.
So, section thirteen of the Capital Ring (I'd walked section twelve a few weeks previously), between Stoke Newington and Hackney Wick.

A glorious day, full of all the things I was afraid of, all the smells and sounds, warm spring sunshine, solitude in the open air.

I won't deny, there were difficult moments. Several times I found myself longing to be able to share the experience of this beautiful day, with some nebulous significant other, but every time that familiar feeling of "if only" welled up, the regular tramp of my feet on the hard towpath seemed to knock it away.

Overshot the end of the section in the end, and carried on to Old Ford Lock, then down the Greenway (actually part of section fourteen), and then into Stratford for the train home.

Good.  Good.