A walk in my neighbourhood the other day reminded me of one of my favourite spring phenomena. Not blossom, or birdsong, but the wild variation in what people consider seasonally appropriate clothing.
I was dressed – in my opinion correctly – for the meteorological conditions (cold, windy, non-negligible threat of rain) in a woolly hat, jumper and padded jacket, a classic Yorkshire springtime combo. But a man heading towards me walking his dog apparently had a wholly different take: he was wearing a singlet, shorts and flip-flops. We glanced at each other in mutual incomprehension, then walked on.
