It’s June and we’re already more than half-way through the month.
The summer solstice always makes me a bit sad. It’s the longest day of the year, the height of astronomical summer, but it also marks the start of a relentless decline. Every day will surely be dimmer than the last, until the end of the year. I hope life’s not like that. I hope I’ll always have a longer day to look forward to ((Or at least I hope to live without knowing that there are no longer days to come.)). Perhaps that hope is enough.
I’ve decided that May is my favourite month. I always suspected it was but now I’m sure. The weather’s a large part of it: the winter months are far too cold and dark, and I end up staying inside far too much ((I can go many days without stepping outside.)). April can be pleasant, but it’s still just a slightly warmer and brighter winter month. Autumn is nice for its colours… but that’s about it. That leaves the months without an ‘r’ in them. When they aren’t masquerading as winter months, they’re the most pleasant to live in: warm enough to go out and light enough to stay there all evening. Of them all, I like May the best: the Sun is nearest its hottest (but the air isn’t) and the weather is surprisingly pleasant and an extremely welcome change from winter. I like the relaxed pace of May: for the last few years, May has been exam time for me, also known as holiday time. The perfect opportunity to climb a Munro. But what I like best about May is its flora. The green vegetation everywhere after months of brown and yellow crap. It’s so refreshing and I love it all. Especially the trees.
I was disappointed that I missed May this year. I left Britain on the 6th May (rather than on the 5th as planned), and when I returned it was June ((And it was raining.)). I don’t think France has May, or if they do it’s actually disguised as April. I spent most of my time in France in a Mediterranean climate anyway – I’m not sure how seasons function in such places. Do they even have a brown/yellow/grey winter like they do here?
Missing May was unavoidable, though. When I decided to book my trip, that I would actually go away somewhere on my gap year, I didn’t have much choice. I knew I wanted to travel to France when the weather would be reliably pleasant (May to August), and I wanted to go for a month. July is always family time for me, June is also fully booked this year too. August: no way. Not for that long in those temperatures travelling by train. That left May: cool but with a hot Sun, and not too busy either. In hindsight, yes, it was the best option available.
Now I’m home, and I’ve been home for nearly two weeks. Yet such is the busy-ness of this June that I’ve barely looked at the 4,000 photos that I took whilst away. I’m neglecting various computery things, and I’m not seeing my friends enough.
There’s been a special birthday in the family, so it’s a been a time of celebration, reunion, and fun. And fireworks. I’ve probably drunk more in the last week than I did over Christmas and New Year. I’m not complaining, it’s been great, but there’s a lot of us: I have five siblings, for starters. There’s only so much waiting for the shower than I can take.
And just as things are starting to calm down, I’m off to London next Friday (1st class train ticket!) to stay with my older brother and his girlfriend for a few days, and I won’t be returning to Perth for another 3 weeks after that.
The biggest casualty is that I’ve not been thinking about much recently, not as much as usual anyway. There’s something new happening every day and so much going on that I don’t have time to abstract myself from the real world in order to think and reflect deeply.
It’s OK, I can wait. Especially when the waiting is as fun as it is.