Since emigrating to the UK, from South Africa, some 20 odd years ago, I have started to like British winters. Mostly they are mild but you get the odd cold snap ... like when you get the chance to feel special about a perfect blanket of snow. Or a brisk walk to the bus stop on a frosty morning, when you can play mind games with how far you can blow your breath in the icy wind. Or the nice n' crunchy feeling as you walk along a perfect frost in the morning.
Which is just as well...
It provides the high that you need for the guaranteed Chaos that is about to ensue. Like getting stuck in the channel tunnel. Or not getting home from work. Or getting your car encrusted in grit and dirt. Or getting stuck on the M25 for eight hours. Or opting for a sunday lunch instead of a day on the Mountain Bike. Or having to defrost the path to the house, the house that you have just spent a fortune heating.
So this year I'm 12,000 miles away in New Zealand. Its summer here and its rather nice. Idilic really, in fact just as Idilic as the picture that Dad sent me of the family Garden in Crawley (UK) from last night:
So my Epiphany... winters have lost their charm. I like summer. Winter can stay at home, some 12,000 miles away. Here is my Idilic shot from about the same time yesterday, in Abel Tasman National Park (NZ):