Sometimes I dream of summer, hot and dry; long golden evenings and short moonlit nights; of skin exposed to air rather than covered up under multiple layers of fabrics; of all-pervading, penetrating warmth. Reality often fails to deliver. There is rain and cold, a midsummer spent shivering rather than sunbathing. Perhaps this year will be different. Perhaps the heat will return, and the occasional showers be warm and comfortable rather than icy and distressing.
Perhaps.