A spring unsprung
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A usual course of conversation in the absence of anything to talk about is to discuss the weather. This blog website is no stranger to that, thanks in no small part to writer's block. Living in the UK nevertheless imposes certain limitations on the topic. For much of the year, we don't really have a lot of weather in the UK. Instead, we endure varying degrees of mild and have to find something else to talk about. The upside of this is that when something weather-related does happen, it'll top up the conversation coffers for months.
The spring of 2013 started couple of months ago, as it always does, at the end of March. But for the fact the clocks went forward and British Summer Time (BST) began*, one wouldn't have known. The year had started bitterly cold and for a few weeks we were even 'blessed' with some snow to talk about. Spring's arrival saw little change. If the temperatures crept up at all, they did so inconspicuously so as not to draw too much attention.
There have been brighter spells. For a handful of days, the clouds parted long enough to see clear blue skies. Even the sun made an appearance, casting rarely seen shadows and warming anything the breeze didn't touch. It speaks volumes, however, that you could talk in vague terms about the nice weather and people can work out which day you meant.
As I write this, the sky is once again shrouded in grey. The trees outside shake violently in the wind, audible through closed windows. From time to time, rain and even hail pounds against the glass. At work, the temperature in our office, forever in flux even in the calmest of times, has dropped below comfortable and I regularly have to stop what I'm doing so I can sit on my hands to warm them up. Even at the end of May I wonder if I've left my winter coat at home too soon.
I remember a time when spring was a precursor to summer—a literal 'warm-up' if you like. It wasn't hot like the latter season, but there was a notable transition from the cold months of winter. This year has been different. That transition seems to have been less marked. Spring has stuttered. The few times the season has shown itself have been brief and soon replaced with colder weather. This year spring has more in common with its predecessor than its successor.
With summer just a month away, I'm expecting some milder weather in the not too distant future. The forecasts remain unconvincing. A few months down the line I may yet find myself complaining that I'm too warm. Since my hands haven't thawed out this year, that's a risk I'm prepared to take.
* British Summer Time, incidentally, doesn't refer to the season 'summer'. That summer starts at the end of June and, like the other seasons, lasts approximately three months, during which time it goes largely unnoticed by much of the UK.