Why am I writing about the weather?
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It comes to something when all I can think to write about is the weather. It is especially sad given that I live in a country that has so little of it. As I've mentioned on countless occasions, the weather in Britain tends to go through varying degrees of mild. It can get warmer. It can get colder. It can be sunny. It can rain. It can even snow. But it all takes place within a fairly limited scope. An 'extreme' for British weather is normally equivalent to a regular day in a country used to a much warmer or much colder climate. It is also a rarity.
My last blog pointed out that spring had arrived. No sooner had the clocks changed for daylight saving time than the sun came out and the temperatures soared to the upper echelons of mild. It was easily the warmest week of the year, but it didn't stick around much longer than that. Having got it out of its system, the weather has returned to a more familiar form. They skies are now more often robbed of their bluish hue and ominous grey clouds hover overhead waiting for us to step outside.
Today, like most days in the last few weeks, is undecided. There are grey clouds racing each other across a pallid sky and the temperature has fallen to something just far enough below comfortable to be annoying. There have been as many bright spells as rainy ones, but for the most part I've spent the day looking at an expanse of cloud and not much else. Yesterday was similarly mixed. The sky was visible and the sun even made an appearance, but it was difficult to enjoy it when it was raining at the same time. The short walk from my office to the bus stop yesterday was too bright to see straight and yet I arrived looking like a drowned rat.
Aside from yesterday's swim to the bus stop, I've mostly been unaffected. I work indoors and the majority of the activities I've been involved in outside of work haven't required me to spend any unusual length of time outside. But for the odd walk between buildings and/or vehicles, I've spent the majority of my time with a roof over my head. This isn't a complaint. I'm quite happy doing the things I do. If anything it has been a benefit in weather as changeable as this.
I'm left, however, in a situation whereby the weather still seems to produce more blogs on my website than anything else. I have so much going on that I should be able to talk about any number of things, and yet I keep coming back to the one thing I have hardly anything to do with. I have lots of ideas for things I'd like to write for other projects, but when it comes to blogs, I draw a blank. I can sit at a keyboard with an empty document on my screen and stare at a flashing cursor for hours before inspiration strikes. I suppose one could say I'm going through a bit of a dry spell.