‘It’s lovely out there, Mummy’, shouts Rufus as he swings open the front door and grabs his shoes.
And so I hear myself in my son, and love that the very English ‘lovely’ is very much a part of his vocabulary and that he feels the need to tell me about the weather. The phrase is from me, and I definitely pass comment on the sunshine, or lack thereof, several times a day.
We are in the middle of a very Spring like Saturday, despite there still being the remnants of snow on the ground. The sun is out, there has been much outside playing and there’s a content, relaxed vibe about the house that is definitely harder to come by when it’s freezing outside and everyone is stuck inside.
Having thought that weather small talk was a distinctively English thing, I’ve realised that Illinois reverberates with similar conversations. In a place where blue skies can give way to a snow blizzard, before temperatures rise and the flowers are tricked into coming out early before the next sleety moment. There is much to say.
And we are all smiling more on those days when the suns sticks around, and the temperatures allow wellies rather snow boots to be first in the line of footwear by the front door.
I’ve been challenged by February in Chicagoland not to be flattened by the simplest of circumstances, the weather. It’s been a cold, paralysing month or two, and I’ve found myself sinking a little as the days have blurred into one in this Covid-tinged world. As much as I’m lifted by the sunshine, and thrilled to be outside more, I’m praying that my heart would be lifted by the non-circumstantial, unchanging realities of life anchored in Christ. And so my smile would be rooted in that truth, irrespective of the weather, and simply topped up by – rather than dependent on – the sunshine.
But…it really is lovely out there!