Call that a summer? Now how will we cope with a Covid-ravaged autumn?
We needed warmth and fun and ice lollies to prepare us for the coming gloom. We got … more gloom
I’ve been drenched in rain this week. Personally, I like it. I have a theory that everyone has a season that brings out the best in them, and for most normal people that is summer, because summer is good, but for me I like autumn: wearing boots, looking at clouds of fog, going in woods for a bit, having a hot chocolate. There is no better season in which to watch a really long film while turning on all the lamps in your house, for instance. Suddenly caring about hedgehogs. Casseroles. Going to a pub with a fireplace in it. All of that.
So for people like me (miserable; a lot of coats), autumn is good. For everyone else, not so much. More to the point, the blunt fact of autumn being here is that summer is over, and therein lies a problem: we didn’t have a summer this year, in a year when we really needed one. And I can only foresee this coming out in simmering, wrongheaded ways (oh, just say “British”!) over the next few weeks and months, and probably ruining the good early days of winter, too.