It feels like the Autumn rains have arrived along with the first frost. The pink and white horse chestnut trees are losing their leaves but those of the maple, beech and oak are still a vibrant green and intact on the tree.
The British weather is unique on the world- wet, damp, grey but with the occasional bright and heavenly day. We speak endlessly about the weather because it changes every five minutes. Only the British have mastered the concept of layers which we peel off as the temperature rises throughout the day.
While our Continental neighbours moan about the lack of light in Britain, why not look at it from a different perspective? The British weather forces introspection and imagination. Could Emily Bronte have written Wuthering Heights otherwise?
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