Yesterday was a rare December day. People left their coats and sweaters at home and smiled at strangers. Under a blue sky the warm sun dimmed Christmas lights to mere pinpricks. We attended a memorial service for a friend in an unassuming church with gloriously sunlit stained-glass windows. It was a cheerful service of music, song, poetry and memories of a woman who left behind a family so talented in the arts – music, literature, painting, acting – that she must have been proud. A warming day in all senses.
I knew when I found the coconut oil had solidified overnight that I would see something different today. Sure enough a peek through the blinds confirmed the coconut knew its business. The grass was covered with a white lace cloth of icy snow. The sky glowered with the threat of more to come. The thermometer had dropped by thirty degrees.
Isn’t it wonderful to have such variety? I know we dream of living on a tropical island but three hundred and sixty-five days of unrelieved sunshine would pall soon enough, I think. A recent television programme gave a taste of the life of researchers in Antarctica and I truly believe that three hundred and sixty-five days of unrelieved snow and icy winds would pall too – even more quickly than the tropical sun! No, give me the erratic, unreliable, almost unpredictable weather of the moderate zones. If nothing else, it offers something to talk (or write) about.