The Oxford English Dictionary released its new words this week. As always, it is a somewhat cracked mirror of the cultural moment. A few made me smile; others I sincerely hope are fads.

But as I skimmed the list, I wondered about the words that do not make it in, the ones we invent by instinct, which surface from the subconscious rather than portmanteau and abbrevs.

A few days ago, I found myself saying the word ouroboric; it describes things that loop back into themselves: self-consuming, self-renewing, cyclical, a snake devouring its tail, in symbolic or philosophical form. But as I said the word aloud one day, another version appeared, uninvited but insistent: Ouroborism. It sounded slightly different; it was not just a description of a pattern but also the quality of the relationship within that pattern. So I made it my own.

After a little time away from writing here, I wanted to share a small reflection. This piece is about attention; not in the abstract sense, but in the very real way that our focus shapes how we move through the world. It is so easy to be pulled into the noise, to doom scroll endlessly, absorb the headlines, and carry it all without even noticing. But I have been thinking about what happens when we begin to notice the quieter things instead. The warmth of a mug in your hands. Blossom that is starting to appear. A moment of stillness between tasks. These gentle details often go unseen, yet they have the power to steady us, and, in their own way, to shift the atmosphere we carry into our conversations, our homes, and our work. We may not be able to fix everything around us, but we can choose what we give our attention to. And that simple act, done deliberately, really does change things.

You need to read this piece. Especially now.

As the Winter in the Arctic Circle draws to a close this serene Norwegian archipelago, with its characteristic waterside confetti of red houses, or hyttes, is the perfect romantic getaway. Visiting in February and March, when the Sun is visible for about six hours a day, yet still before the tourist maelstrom of Spring and Summer, can be immensely rewarding. There are of course challenges travelling to the far north of the planet at this time of year, but for the intrepid visitor the lure of dramatic vistas, the Aurora Borealis, and deep powdery snow can be irresistible. Top it off with white-washed interiors of cosy wooden cabins warmed with wood-burning stoves, and hot tubs and saunas overlooking fjords, and you may never want to leave.