Yesterday was the official start of spring, though the plants have known it for weeks. The crocuses are all but over. The daffodils and snowdrops are blooming. The willow trees flushed green last Thursday. The grass needs mowing.
So, naturally, it’s been cold and rainy for five days.
But cold and rainy at the beginning of September is fundamentally different from cold and rainy in July.
It may be twelve degrees in the house in the morning, but I don’t feel the need to light the fire—it feels warmer than it is.
The sky is light at 6 am.
The sky is still light at 6 pm.
The magpies tussle on the lawn and sing in the early morning darkness.
The plovers run in fits and starts across the paddocks.
We are all restless to be outside, regardless of the weather.
Weeds seem to spring up overnight in the garden.
Yes, it is spring.