I have never been a fan of summer.

Even saying it to myself, never mind other people makes me feel like I’m saying something mad. Everyone is meant to enjoy summer. Long hot days, plenty of time to spare, lighter evenings… what’s not to like? But for me since I was little, even the clocks going forward would bring a sense of dread. I hated the the long endless days and the heat, and I longed for autumn and winter to return. The months of rain, wind and occasional flurries of snow made me feel safer, and I found a lot of comfort huddled inside whilst the outside was cloaked in darkness.

Yet this past year, I have found myself mourning the passing of summer and the longer days for the first time and I feel strangely conflicted and disloyal to my usual seasonal preferences. Im going to miss wearing shorts, and not thinking about protecting myself from the cold until very late at night. I’m going to miss rising early in the light and sitting in my garden to enjoy breakfast. Whilst the past year and a half has been extremely difficult, I feel much more balanced with how I approach a lot of things. I think most of all I’ve learnt how to relax and accept things I can’t change - such as the changing of the seasons - but this is just a symptom of a wider change. I will miss the summer now and look forward to its return where once again I can enjoy a coffee in the morning sun.