London Summers

When I moved into 278 in WH last year, the sun was beginning to come out after a long winter and the bleakness of life was starting to fade away. One of my flatmates said to me in the early days, you live in London for the summers and only the summers. Such a true statement.

In the middle of fall to winter, you can get bogged down by the rain and grey skies; constantly driving you away from the culture of the city and into your flat. But when the sun begins to shine and the days start to get longer, your memory of what the city is like changes. You forget the months that have just passed, as if they didn't exist. I remember London only ever being warm and bright - full of places to wander and outdoor events to stumble upon. The city comes to life, and with it, so do you.

I try as often as I can to walk to Oxford Circus from WH instead of taking the tube, and when I do in the grey months, I keep my head down set on the destination. When the sun shines however, I see everything around me. The buildings from centuries ago, the statues, the art, and even the sounds sound different.

I live for London summers. And what keeps me going through the other months is the lingering memory of their existence. I know what the green will look like beside my house in a months time, and I will be curled up on a park bench reading there soon enough. I remember the bustle of the streets from Trafalgar Square to Westminster and the commotion of everyone trying to stare up at Big Ben.

The time has already begun to change now and I wait in excitement. I see the sun until almost six, and in the morning by the time I reach the train. There are more people on the High Street when I look down from my flat's bay windows. Patios beginning to pile with afternoon drinkers. Leaves on trees. We're almost there but not yet.