Opinion / Alexis Self
Right as rain
According to Met Office statistics, the UK has already seen more than 92 per cent of this month’s average rainfall. The country is on track for its wettest May on record; the darling buds have taken a battering this year. It has been awful – almost comically bad – and every day seems to bring unseasonably fresh insults: extreme winds, risks of flooding, heavy sleet.
All the wind and rain might be completely dispiriting if it didn’t feel so intrinsic to life in the UK. Still, the irony (there’s always an irony) is especially delicious this time around: the wettest May on record coincided with lockdown restrictions that, until last week, precluded the possibility of meeting indoors. Conversely, May 2020, when we were all but forbidden to leave our homes, was the sunniest on record. Socialising has been a bruising experience: over here, you have to fight the weather.
Foreign friends proffer that Britain’s meteorological vagaries (plans scuppered, hailstorms endured) could be behind its citizens’ famous wit – but I reckon I could still be wry in Cyprus. I sometimes imagine what it would be like to live somewhere with good weather. When I close my eyes, I see myself (sun-kissed, shades on) walking to work with a smile on my face. I eat lunch alfresco, stopping between morsels to simply breathe in the warm air. After work I stroll through streets to the sounds of echoing laughter and play to meet some friends on a sun-baked terrace. As I place a cool glass on the table, I open my mouth to speak… but I have nothing to say.