A spring in my step...the other thought

Ah yes...the other thought.

Well I was talking to mum yesterday (of course, it was Mother's Day) and she was telling me how she, dad and my auntie had just enjoyed lunch in the garden for the first time this year. It was a lovely British spring day, with blue sky, hazy sun and just a little chill in the air.

Gulp.

Pangs of longing for a fresh spring walk by the river.

People did say when I moved to the desert that it would be the changing of the seasons that I would miss the most. More than being able to buy wine at Waitrose, I said? For the record, those people were right. Sure, we have 'weather' - I had at least 3 spots of rain land on my windscreen on Saturday and today a shamal has arrived and clouded us in dust for the next few days. But the year rolls round with no marker that says "spring has sprung" or "winter is here". There's no wardrobe overhaul as the winter togs get relegated and summer tops brought out.

Spring is a beautiful, fresh season in England, but Autumn has always been my favourite. I love sitting in the beer garden when it's just that little bit too chilly, or nipping into a coffee shop when my cold nose says it's time for a cup of tea. Plus it's my birthday (although that's not such a great thing as the years pile up!) and it used to signal the new school year...which meant a change in routine, netball instead of athletics (thank goodness), and - most importantly - new shoes.

See how I got distracted first time around?!