I hate this time of year. From the start of last month to the end of this, I hate it. The days are wet, or at best damp, and are either cold or suddenly rather warm, cooking you in your rainwear. And, worst of all, the days are grey. So terribly, terribly grey. The clouds, the buildings, the trees, the cars, the people. The buses, being red, albeit a dirty red, try to do their bit. But inside, the condensation on the windows sweats away, grey and wet, obscuring the view of the greyness and wetness you will soon be stepping back into.
It’s like we are living our lives in a black and white film, but it’s worse than that, because in black and white films there are blacks and whites as well as greys. For us, in these miserable months, it’s just greys. Even if it snows, the snow only stays white for about 15 minutes before it starts fading to grey.
