I Love the Summer

Dr Vee is sounding off about summer in response to this post:

I cannot stand hot weather. There is nothing worse. And to top it all off we’ve had thunder and everything a couple of times, so you can throw heavy rain into the mix as well. Extremely hot, cloudy, raining like a drunkard on a tree — it’s bad, bad, bad.

I’ve commented there with a contrary view, but I want to expand here. I live for summer. I live for the warm lazy days. Dr Vee prefers winter:

You might say, “ah, but winter is very cold!” But the thing about that is that at least you can wrap up warm.

Winter. I hate winter with a vengeance. Four layers of clothing does not even start to keep me warm. Weeks upon weeks of long dark nights and cold, grey days. Winter is hateful, cold and miserable. If it isn’t wet, it is icy and freezing cold. Okay, yes, there are some photographic opportunities to be had, but that does not compensate for weeks of darkness and lack of sunlight. So, I am a summer lover, a creature of the sunlight. It could be worse. If it wasn’t for the Gulf Stream our climate would be much more arctic-like.

Summer; that season when the air is redolent with the heady scent of flowers; the borders resplendent with the colour of geraniums, delphiniums, Canterbury bells and clematis. Summer; languid, mellow and indolent; a time for watching the world pass by under hazy blue skies, with fluffy white clouds and vapour trials. Summer is a time to reflect, while doing nothing in particular; a time for just being. Summer; the sound of far off lawn mowers mingle with the buzzing of the frenetic bumble bee as it works from one fragrant bloom to another. Summer; a time for idly watching the dancing dragonflies in their mating ritual, their jewelled colours flashing red, blue and green in warm dappled sunlight, reflecting on the still water of the garden pond. An English garden in all its summer splendour is a haven for wildlife.

With summer comes the outdoors, garden furniture and gatherings, the smells of outdoor cooking. During the hot afternoons, I’ll pass the listless hours lounging in a chair with a cool drink and just watch the world go by.

At least, that’s what summer should be like. All too often, it is a disappointing washout with wind and rain. Barely have the April buds sprung than the October leaves are turning red and gold with nary a warm day to be seen twixt the two. No, in Britain; this damp, dreary, rain soaked, septic isle, we don’t get summer, just warmer rain. So, when we do get the odd heat-wave for a day or two, the moaning hits my top note – particularly when it is lurking in subliminal messages contained in the weather forecasts; telling us that soon the weather will break and won’t that be a good thing? No, it won’t be a good thing. We barely get any decent weather as it is, so can we please just make the most of those few precious days without complaining about it being “too hot”. There is no such thing as “too hot”. Too hot does not exist in this country.

Just as well I’m off to warmer climes at the earliest opportunity… At least there, I can pretty much guarantee a decent summer starting in mid April and continuing through to late September. Winter then is bearable.