This Sunday morning, waking early, bedroom curtains open, the sky is blue, the sun is golden, shining and warm. The village has not yet stirred, no vehicles, radios, or mowers to break the peace. The only sound is that of the birds singing their welcome to the break of the day and the warmth of the sun.
We haven't really seen the start of summer yet. I admit we have had a few fine days where the temperature rocketed above 20 degrees, but mostly (or should that be moistly?) it has been miserable, grey, cool and very wet. I don't think there have been many days where we have had a totally dry day. Yet, here in East Anglia, we are officially in drought. The rain we have had has not been heavy enough or sustained enough to penetrate the hardened ground, and it is mostly running off into rivers, lakes and streams. It isn't topping up the depleted water table or sufficient to refill the reservoirs.
As I child, I remember long hot summers, two weeks camping in Wales with my parents, we had the odd storm, but only two that I remember in 14 years of holidays. You were guaranteed good weather in august. But the past few years, the weather has been all topsy turvey, mixed up. We basked in sunshine back in February this year, yet we were almost washed away in May. We hardly had any snow last winter, yet two years ago, the country almost ground to a halt for two weeks because of heavy snowfall.
So, on this fine, glorious Sunday morning, I'm pondering over the weather (a traditional British pastime). Is all this mix up of seasons really down to the greenhouse effect, or is it just Gaia, part of Earth's natural cycle.
Today's forecast is for 'Showers developing', and if this unseasonably variable weather is really down to carbon emissions, then Global Warming sucks!