I always thought I wasn't a sufferer from the English obsession with the prevailing climatic conditions, but writing these strange book things as I do, I've had to come to reappraise my view.
I've noticed that in almost every one of my scenes, there's some reference to the weather. And without any conscious effort on my part, the conditions that I rope into my imaginary wanderings seem to complement the occasion.
In the dramatic scenes, the weather tends to be either wet, or close and dense. Come the (admittedly rather rarer) jolly interludes, I can usually be relied upon to encourage at least a glimpse of the sunshine.
It's only lately I've really noticed this, and I suppose it's inevitable, as we're all so influenced by the weather. It's particularly pertinent at this rare moment of warmth, when the summer appears to have at last remembered its job description and people smile as they walk.
Long may it continue, although as ever with the English weather, I travel more with the companion of optimism than any sense of realism.