I thought I would write a bit about the weather this week. And how strange it has been in the last few weeks. When we travelled down to Lyme Regis last month it was on the day that the temperature was 38 degrees. (It seems that July was the hottest month recorded in Europe since records began). For myself I find the heat troublesome, and I never sit in the sun.
On August 22nd, 1800, Dorothy Wordsworth wrote in her journal:
'Very cold. Baking in the morning, gathered pea seeds and took up - lighted a fire upstairs.....Wind very high shaking the corn'.
August 23rd, 1879, Richard Jefferies wrote:
Rain steady all morning: heavy till afternoon - caused local flood. Evening dry but cloudy. The wood pigeons are now in the wheat in flocks (they beat the ears with bill).
August 27th, 1782, William Cowper wrote:
It is so cold this 27th of August that I shake in the green-house where I am writing.
Seagull news. Seagulls are now annoying the citizens of Paris with the noise they make and the chaos they create. In particular it is the Belleville fish market which is one of their favourite haunts. They also enjoy the safe nesting opportunities afforded by the city's rooftops.
What is to be done?
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English Weather
rain, mist and fog
make my hair curl
my skin goes clammy
affects my liver and temper
produce a chill, a cold, a cough
while the sun cheers me
lightens my heart and mood
fills the house
brightens the corners
warms my body
reminds me of holidays
when I was young
but English weather
and all its seasons
are my heritage
in my blood, my natural habitat
I don't want want perpetual sun
blue skies, or monsoon rains,
or ice or snow
all year round
English weather suits me best.
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With very best wishes, Patricia
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