Two days in a row of actually steadily sunny weather – hot, by Newcastle standards (above 70º, a bit at least). Lovely... a tendency to sit outside at cafés and talk, and eat...
And the men of northern England (and perhaps the women, I haven't really noticed of course) are looking their best: this is the time of year, around August and September, when they seem relaxed, muscular, handsome. Okay, well, some of them at least.
And yes, I know: other places, from San Francisco to Zürich, have had blazingly hot summers – well it hasn't happened here, most of the summer was rainy. I still think the rich of Switzerland and Monaco will be elbowing us out of our homes in a decade or two... all right it's a joke. Maybe.
But everything seems relaxed and sunny, as does the day... with all the geographical and temporal resonances of those memories: how many places the sun has seen, far more than I of course, no competition really.
No doubt, this fall, when classes start, I'll regret not going away somewhere fun. (At lunch, a woman asked: so do you miss your students in the summer? My yell of astonishment... how could she think such a thing?) But the days have been relaxed enough – despite all the procrastination over the work I want to finish before November – that I do feel as though I am still on break from the most onerous aspects of life.
And maybe, depending on medications and moods, Christmas will happen somewhere else....
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