It's that time of year when I can't help thinking, as I see dirty cars everywhere, how delightful it would be to have a pressure washer full of warm water, and to just walk around from car to car. A solid stream of water peeling away layers of built-up, caked-on grime, which swirls away in sheets of filth and flows off, leaving shining, pristine cars behind.
And not just cars. Signs, buildings, traffic lights, you name it. Anything covered in February grime.
The image of the filth peeling back and rushing away is sensuous, seductive, almost visceral in its appeal. Thinking about it makes me feel... dirty.