Here’s the thing about the dreaded English weather. It’s not that bad. Really. You just have to get the hang of it, which entails dropping everything (no matter how important) to run outside when the sun is shining. As long as I get my hour or so of outdoor time each day, or even just most days, I am fine. The trouble is, you don’t know when that is going to be. Take last Friday for example. The kids were home on their half-term break so I planned to ride with them in the morning when the sun was even just hinting at coming out. But they were not having it – they were dead set on having a lazy morning. And then the rain started, and it poured for most of the day. In the late afternoon we were all having a bit of cabin fever so I finally persuaded them to ride. Although it was forecasted to rain into the evening, the sun broke through the clouds, and much to our surprise, it became the perfect autumn day. We closed our eyes as we sat on our horses, and turned our face towards the sun. We let the warmth and the glow of light sink into our skin. We talked about how good it felt and savored the moment. As we turned towards home a big dark cloud threatened to disturb our bless, but the rain just missed us and instead we were treated to a giant double rainbow just over the pillars that mark the old entrance to the farm. We were all silent for a moment, not finding the words to express our wonder.
It rained for the next day and a half, but we were happy to sit inside by the fire all cozy with our books and boardgames and laptops. Then this morning as I sat down to catch up on 10 days of ignored paperwork and emails, the sun appeared again and my dog Ginger whined outside my office door, as if to say “Come on Mommy, let’s catch the sun!” And so we did.