They say it's always bad weather for Easter and this year certainly didn't disappoint.
After some precious weeks of radiant sunshine that almost fooled me into believing spring and even summer was near, the temperatures plummeted and impregnable clouds drifted across the luminous sun.
Why? When the world celebrates Easter and a few days off the humbug of work do the weather gods conspire against us?
Tis very sad.
I have the week off. It is of course enjoyable to sleep till 10, have a lazy morning and hide from the world if I so wish it. But had it been a glorious sunny week, I would've been filled with energy to go out and explore, camera in hand. Not that I'm complaining.
It's still better than the drudgeries of the work week. Now I'm off for a brief walk into town. I will conjure up some sunshine somehow.
Though it will probably solely exist in my mind. Being a writer has advantages. We have an abundance of imagination.
