Sun is shining, the weather is sweet, and none of us quite know what to do with ourselves. It’s very rare that we, as Brits, are graced by the sun’s presence, instead spending most days complaining about the weather (which is justified, as it’s usually awful) and praying for the summer to “just hurry up and get here”. However, praying for some nice summer weather is sort of like making a wish by throwing a coin in a fountain – there’s a part of you that wants it to come true, but you feel pretty safe knowing that it (probably) never will. So when the sun does suddenly make an appearance in the back garden, we react sort of how we would if that unicorn we wished for as a child were to show up – surprised, intrigued, disbelieving and at a bit of a loss for what to actually do with it. The sun in England, like unicorns, has always been the stuff of legend.
There’s a rather sizeable difference between the sun in England and the sun on holiday. Namely that on holiday you expect to see it. In fact, you essentially chased it half way across the world. The sun told you to meet it on a beach in Spain and you fully intend to be there, no problem, looking forward to it. The sun instead turning up at your door on a weekday morning when you’re about to set off to work in your usual attire of jeans, boots and a jacket, umbrella in your bag (just in case), is frankly quite inconvenient. It’ll then insist on following you to work to taunt you from the window. Again, inconvenient.
However, you know in your heart that the sun’s not going to be around forever, so you’re under strict societal pressure to “make the most of it”. This means cancelling all plans that involved being inside any kind of building that isn’t a tikki beach hut. It means you have to spend your lunch break sunbathing on any available patch of grass, even if every inch of skin on your body is covered by clothing (which the weather has now declared as wrong). You’re under strict instruction to summon up child-like enthusiasm when you hear an ice cream truck and to eat all meals alfresco. No, you cannot just nip inside to catch a bit of EastEnders. The sun is out, are you mad? You need to make the most of it. There is too much ‘making the most of it’ to do.
Sunny days are great in the same way that staying up past 10pm is great, i.e. only on a weekend. We’re all more than happy to sit half-naked in the local park (bit weird, when you think about it) and exist on sausages that are more burnt than our shoulders from Saturday morning to Sunday evening. But come Monday, we’re really just looking for any excuse to clamber into bed at 7pm and not move until the next morning. Rain lets us do this. ‘Angry’ clouds don’t judge us. We couldn’t possibly walk to the gym, socialise or spend any time outside the house in bad weather. However, it seems the heatwave we spent the whole of June throwing coins into fountains for is finally here – better go and make the most of it.