Weathering heights

You know how in California all anyone talks about is the traffic and how they got from A to B? (If not, watch this and be prepared to LOL.) Well, here in London, they like to talk about the weather. A lot.

It’s a conversation starter, filler, ender and everything in between.

Since the weather is usually pretty shite — this last winter being the coldest, snowiest one in years — all this weather talk is usually, well, rubbish. As in, negative. It’s rare people say, “Oh it’s lovely out today, isn’t it?”

No, weather soundbites are more of this variety:

“It’s so cold out, mate!”

“They say it’s going to be worse tomorrow.”

“Bloody rain.”

But these last few weeks? Absolutely stunning. I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated spring and growth like this before.

It’s weird, too. I’m from New York and went to school up in Syracuse: I know a thing or two about cold, snowy, horrid weather.

But this London winter was something else entirely. That said, while I was aware of its awfulness, I was also way too preoccupied with just being here to really pay it any mind. So I honestly didn’t realize how bad it was until…

I started to see green: leaves, grass, stems. Also, pinks! Rosy and blush petals! Oh and the yellow! Daffodils and tulips galore.


It’s like a different city.

People are sitting on the commons (cause you can; unlike parks where you can only, er, park it on a bench) and drinking their lukewarm ales outside on the pavement. (Another awesome thing about this city: public boozing is AOK!)

The temps are still a bit cool (see, even I’ve become accustomed to complaining) but the skies are blue, and the cirrus clouds are cotton candy balls you wish you can jump into and taste.

Totally worth talking about.


Whaddaya think?