Where I am the weather is glorious. Indeed, I would say perfect. According to the Beeb, maximum tempertaure is 19° and for tomorrow and Saturday nights, the minimum will be 12° - although I have it on good authority that this is based on the office junior looking out of a Shepherds Bush window.
Whenever the weather is different from the norm or average, people pronounce it as freak. I disagree. I have memories of sitting outside pubs in November, of unseasonably mild weather at this time of year. And also of bitter wet cold windy weather. Average is only the sum of the readings divided by the number of readings. They rarely give us the range or variances of the dataset.
I put my fleece on this morning over my suit, because it's late October, and I'll be out late this evening. I took it off on the Tube for fear of expiring with heat exhaustion. I only redonned it because wearing is generally the easiest way to carry a garment. At lunchtime I wore my suit jacket, unnecessarily. Lots of people were in shirt sleeves because it's mild and bright. Lots more were in jumpers and coats because it's late October.
It's a nice temperature, absolutely comfortable in suit. A light breeze skimming the fluffy white clouds across the sky. The quality of light is stupendous, displaying the warm rich colours of autumn, not least the multi shades and tones of the Virginia Creeper which is rooted in the garden of Gert Cottage but has somehow spread its tentacles over the entire area, oops.
I like autumn in so many ways, yet I dislike the evenings drawing in, the arriving home in the dark, which soon becomes the leaving home in the dark. I dislike the build-up to Christmas, the hysteria and angsting, and most of all the expense of parting with my money to purveyors of choicest tat. And yet I like the Festival of Lights to mark the Solstice. Last night Regent Steet looked in need in some of Christmas lights. But I like it when the end of January approaches, and the nights draw out; by the time of my birthday weekend, it doesn't go dark until after five pm, and the green shoots are poking through the earth. As I age, the seasons come and go with more frequency, and according to the thickies in the media, are now all merged into one. But at least, if you don't like one, another one will be along soon.
Comments