the gloomiest day

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There was rain today. Oodles and oodles of glorious rain, breaking up the monotony of all the sunshine we've recently been forced to endure. Oh, it was still a trifle muggy, but this could be forgiven when enjoying the sensation of droplets of water on skin and the grey clouds of a verging on autumn sky. Clothing became saturated. Puddles needed to be leapt over. Shivers consumed moist bodies in warm shops. Girls shrieked, running through the rain in their skimpy summer attire. Boys took it all in their stride, strolling around in t-shirts and squelchy footwear. My weather app reliably {lolz} informs me that the coming week brings with it warmth and sunshine, more fitting to a July day than to the middling of September. I do not care for heat in September. I care for leaves that are beginning to turn brown and fall from the trees. I care for jumpers that must be retrieved from summer storage. I care for darker mornings and darker evenings, the question of whether or not a brolly is required and that first gloopy autumnal stew that heralds the return of the slow cooker. I want to be washing, folding and storing my summer clothes, not panicking about how hot and sweaty it's going to be in classrooms. That's a panic best left back in May. And yet, it's nice that Summer and Autumn have this little bout of fisticuffs every year. Summer doesn't want to leave and Autumn is desperate to be here. It would just be a little more pleasant if the extreme changes could be a little less ... well, extreme. The rain finally stopped when the sun disappeared below the horizon. The plants are satiated. Tomorrow I hope for sunshine and breeziness so that the bed sheets can dry happily on the washing line. That's if I can reach the washing line; my garden lawn seems to be a thriving holiday destination for slugs. I'm not sure what the attraction is, but I wish they'd holiday somewhere else.