Cloudless skies, a few Swallows about, and the distant Chestnut canopies beginning to turn green.
It's what I've been waiting for. I can feel my annual depression lifting, warm blood once again rushing merrily through my veins, and my regular smile broadening by the minute.
I try not to moan too much about Winter, especially on these pages; but jeeze how I hate it.
A July baby needs July weather, and at last I can anticipate its return; slowly, yes, but I can feel it.