Hidden among the discarded wrappings of other birthday presents, I find one from C. and F. that I have somehow missed. It is a cloak of many colours, a layered wad of bright and intensely patterned silk scarves. The scarves are square and very large: when I knot the cloak around my shoulders it drags on the floor behind me. As I walk the scarves move and new colours are constantly revealed and re-hidden to create a sort of shifting metapattern; I feel magical.