Spring in
England. Your surroundings when you grow up imprint what you view as normal. To focus on the trivial:
Cape Town weather, for all its fabled variance on a day-to-day basis, has very simple seasons. The middle of
winter is the coldest, darkest and wettest part of the year. The middle of
summer the hottest, brightest and driest. My instincts therefor are that these binary opposites should be thus neatly paired up.
London's icy winter, dry as an ice-cube and now the stormy spring pelting showers like microcosms of cape winters. I sense through the wrongness that I feel that there is a different pattern at work here.
What strikes me as odd is how rapidly the hours of daylight grow longer. Now there is light at nine pm already, like cape midsummer, yet the wet cold air suggests winter to me.
On E2, I have written a worthy historical summary that cannot really compete with the source material at the local library on which it is based. It is well-received by the standard of votes and cools. On other occasions I write what I feel to be important to me, and often that does not get up voted much. That's just the way it is. Do not live for the approval of all. Be yourself.