here comes the sun

On Sunday, for the first time this year, the sun decided to show its face. After the usual antics of a Saturday night out, it was refreshing to wake up to a hint of summer. Unfortunately, the golden glow turned out to be a disappointing deception, seemingly designed to mask the air's bitter chill. Yet we shouldn't moan - it is only early March after all; we should be glad of anything that provides a change from the horrific rain and snow we've experienced.

This first taste of sunshine was too good to waste so I decided to take a walk down by the city common (after initially stepping out of the house in just a t-shirt and jeans). Surprisingly, there weren't many people around which is strange considering how crazy British people get at the first sign of sun. I was half expecting to find a gaggle of semi-naked girls, sunbathing amongst the paddocks yet instead I was disappointed to find the usual gathering of horse trainers and joggers.

The weather didn't last all that long; the clouds soon rolled in and have remained ever since. The air is still very cold for this time of year too and it's making the weather extremely hard to predict. Britain has one of the most diverse climates in the world and usually we can guess that it will snow in January, rain in April, warm up in June and turn cold in October yet for the past year or so, it seems as if anything goes. I guess the world really is changing ... and not for the better by the looks of things. I'm sure it's the same elsewhere.

I'm just happy that I can finally make proper use of my skylight. I had it covered throughout winter as it was so gloomy, no light ever made it through. For the last few days I haven't needed to turn the light on in my room - these little signs that the seasons are changing makes me happy. I've never liked winter and I never will. It's dark, cold and depressive and it seems as though everyone's mood reflects this. I prefer to be surrounded by happy people and summer = happy people. Usually my train journey up to university is spent in silence, the ticket collectors don't talk, commuters shiver on platforms and the people that sit next to me are almost always antisocial. Yet this weekend people were smiling, chatting and allowing others to board before them all because of a bit of sun. It floods the platforms and envelopes the carriages like some kind of magic dust, restoring my faith in humanity as it does so. Maybe this is why Australians always seem to be in good spirits?

Did I mention I love summer?