Summer In The City

I feel like summer is wasted on the city, that this heat is wasted on the urban population. Like all good Brits, I like to talk about the weather, whether it’s hot, cold, dull, wet, warm, whatever. We have to talk about it. It’s part of our culture, to talk about the weather I think. Something ingrained since we were made up of Celts, before the Saxons came and took over.

Anyway. Having living in a city, the country, then finding myself back in the city again, I do feel like it’s wasted. Maybe it’s just wasted on me.

In Wales, when it was warm, when we were kids, we would go to the beach after school. Just to sit or paddle, just to be there. We had a massive garden and a beautiful, enhanced by the sunshine. A clear sky meant you can see a long way from my mum’s house. A clear day here means I can see across the road. Same as a rainy day, or even a foggy day.

I only like the view of a city during one particular point. When it’s raning at night. Street lamps and car headlights reflect off the raindrops and it looks gorgeous.
During the summer, in this heat and sun, it looks a little better than when it’s raining, certainly less depressing, but to be honest, it’s not like being in the country. And I don’t just mean being by the sea, because, you could go to Benidorm. By the sea and still shit. And I don’t just mean Wales, I mean anywhere but the cities. The countryside. There is still some left in England, though, sometimes I forget that some of it can be found in the Midlands. I don’t drive, so I’m confined to buses or friends cars if I need to go a little further.

It’s there though. And it doesn’t smell like sweat and hot tarmac. Petrol or ice cream.

The heat causes more stress than the cold, the dull. Everyone is ratty because they’re too hot, but no one can relax, because while there are parks, everyone else is in the park. It still smeels the same, you’re still surrounded by people, children who are too hot, mothers who are too hot to deal with the kids, people who’ve been in an office all day, wearing a shirt and tie and melting. Just now you can sit on the grass instead of the concrete.

The heat cuases heat stroke and sun stroke (I’ve had both and neither are fun). Headaches, and no one wears sun scream when they should, or sunglasses, so no one can see where they’re walking.

I am coming to love the sun, the heat, I don’t like the amount of sweating I’m doing, but I can deal with it. I would prefer to be in Wales, at my mums. Down the beach in the afternoon, or the evening when the sun goes down. In the garden for lunch, sunbathing, watching the dogs tire themselves out and panting. Looking over hills instead the roads.

Wasted.

Maybe it is just me. Maybe I just miss Wales.

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