Has the weather been tuned to suit our demeanour to help us through this awful pandemic.
The start of the lockdown in March coincided with some typical late winter weather. The clocks hadn’t gone back so being locked up in miserabl weather was not really a huge problem and it was all very novel (and concerning).
Then just as we were getting a tad frustrated the good weather of early June arrived. The virus was still raging, concern was growing, the NHS, care workers and essential workers beavered away, but the clocks had gone forward, light nights prevailed and the sun was shining. The edge of fear being diluted by sitting in the sun – for those with gardens.
Then when the lockdown was eased, and sensible people became wary of social contact. The pundits were afraid people could go ape when the cage door opened. Some did. But the majority of us were like the caged animal who nervously steps slowly through the open door. But then the weather steps in. Summer becomes all English again (note I am not using the term British as we are operating independently). Rain, winds, low temperatures have conspired to shove us all back inside thus reducing the risks. Except the businesses desperately trying to make a go of it are stymied, the face masks hiding their long frustrated sighs.