The Great British Summer 2

You might think that having had a brief bash at this topic a little while back, there's not much more to say on it and that I would leave it well enough alone now. Well, you might think that and it does make sense, but I simply can’t stay off such a sexy subject. It is after all a major British preoccupation and needs to be given its due weight and consideration. One post hardly does it justice, especially as it was a rather short one and some time ago.

The thing is that although it is notionally still summer here, Summer doesn’t seem to know it and appears to be attempting an early exit stage left. It has packed its bags and is nearly out the door to judge by the mix of unseasonal weather we’ve been getting these past few days. Wind, rain, cold... cold, rain, wind.. interspersed of course with patches of bright sunny weather to give us a false sense of security. Those foolish enough to go out in thin summery clothes and without a brolly risk being chilled by a gusting wind and soaked by a sudden downpour. The sun then comes out again but the damage is done.

The other day, as I set off for my daily jog, dark clouds began to gather, shutting out the sun which had been shining up to that point, albeit rather bashfully, the wind picked up and a light rain began to fall. Determined not to be put off by this sudden turn, I carried on towards the adjacent park and, once there, I got into my stride, but it was not looking good. The wind made me feel cold, the rain, which admittedly was not much more than a drizzle, was starting to wet me, and the gloom made it feel like the end of the world!

And yet within just minutes the rain had fizzled out, the wind had slackened, the clouds had parted, and the sun was sending its golden rays down on this part of the world again. The weather had gone from a nice sunny day, to wind, rain and gloom, to a nice sunny day again in the space of under ten minutes! Or was it five? I can't be sure, as I wasn’t wearing a watch. One thing's for sure is that had I drifted off to sleep while it was still warm and sunny and woken a few minutes later, I would never have known that the weather had turned downright nasty for a few minutes!


Anyway, coming back to Summer’s short lease ("And summer's lease hath all too short a date", W. S., Sonnet 18), at least in these northern climes, we may yet get some decent warm days, perhaps an Indian summer... or two... before the warm weather goes on leave till next year. As I wrote these lines of inspired clear-sighted observation, I was sat by the window where I was intermittently blinded by bright sunlight that almost obliterated the image on my monitor or plunged into premature twilight by a gloom that made me glad I could touch-type! (I speak in the past tense because it's been a couple of days between drafting this post and publishing it.)

If you’ve stayed with me up to this point, you’re a hardy soul and to be congratulated. But I’m not done yet and you might not last till the end, so you may still fall at a hurdle before the finish! I still have to recount an escapade of mine a couple of years back when torrential rain was unleashed on us after days of hot muggy mid-summer weather. As the rain came down in bucketfuls, I decided to make the most of it and, in imitation of something I had done on a trip to Brazil, I stripped, donned a pair of swimming-trunks and rushed out into the back garden.

I then strode about the garden, rejoicing in the feel of the cool rain on my skin. It washed and refreshed me, relieving me of the hot sweatiness of the day's heat. Within a few short moments my hair was drenched and so were my swim-shorts and the rainwater was pouring down me, bathing me in its cool caress, renewing me, cleansing me. It was such a wonderful feeling and I stayed out in the rain for as long as it lasted, enjoying every minute of it. But eventually the storm began to abate, the rain slackened off, and I looked silly standing there in the garden in my swim-shorts soaked to the core, so I made a hasty retreat back indoors and straight to the bathtub! Days like that are very rare. Not so much in terms of the rain, there’s enough of that alright, but it’s usually not warm enough for one to go out in the rain in just skimpy shorts without feeling cold.

 As for the similar incident in Brazil which I mentioned above, I was at a sort of out-of-town guest-house at the time, what they call a pousada there, when the heavens opened up in a spectacular way so characteristic of a tropical thunderstorm. Like a shot I changed into my swim-trunks and made a bee-line for the swimming-pool. As I circled round in the pool the rain cascaded down furiously like an immense heaven-sent waterfall. And I for one couldn't get enough of it. The combination of the pool water below and the torrential rainwater above was one of the greatest feelings I've ever had and is up there with s.e.x. in terms of good feeling. It certainly lasted much longer! Everyone else in the hotel must have thought I was out of my tiny mind as they stared out at me from the shelter and comfort of the pousada, but I didn’t care. In fact I felt sorry for them, they didn’t know what they were missing, poor sods! I could have spent most of the day splashing about in the pool as the rain beat down on me, but it was over all too soon, though the memory has stayed with me ever since.

Well, that’s all for now, luvvies, though I know you want more. But, who knows, I might come back to this fascinating topic another time.