England held off on welcoming summer until mid-July. Now we’re at the end of August with true autumn right around the bend and the hottest days of the season happening all around us. It’s strange, but I will not look this gift horse in the mouth.
The thing that defines my life in England is definitely the weather. I hate talking about it so much and having it reflect back to me my emotions so often but there it is. It happens. Five years in, you’d think I wouldn’t be so affected by it, but I still am. Getting used to the notion of four seasons as a thing that used to happen to me, as a way to organize my life, but something that no longer happens, is very difficult.
Anyway, I’m not here to complain. If anything, the swiftness o the season just provides me with more incentive to get outside when the weather permits, no excuses.
This summer that’s meant, at various times, Pokemon hunting walks in town and along the river in Shoreham, paddleboarding with Bruce and alongside Jon on his kayak, and lots of jostling for the coveted outdoor seats at every Brighton pub that has them.
I’m down with it. It almost feels like I got two summers somehow this year – one in June back in the States during our massive roadtrip, and another now, separated by a rainy, windy late June and early July.
Really I should probably just get used to this life and this weather, but if that means giving up the love of extended Vitamin D exposure and sunny blue skies, I just can’t.
Anyway, now I’m just rambling. The heatwave is set to continue through the weekend – just in time for the last bank holiday of the summer. We have friends coming to stay with us, and lots of outdoor activities planned and my intention is to cement this feeling in my brain to get me through whatever dull gray weather is set to follow.
Summer in England – when it’s good, it’s just so so good. Life-affirming good.