Living in London can be tough: the skies are perpetually grey and clouded over, travelling underground can be charming at first, but quickly becomes tedious when you have to squish in with the rest of the population at rush hour, and it's difficult to see the beauty of this ancient city when you're dealing with hail, rain and sleet.
But spring.
Oh.
It more than makes up for it.
The skies are blue and the oldest buildings lose their grey coats and take on new summery wear in pale yellows, greens and pearly whites. They no longer fade into the distance.
The new buildings bounce the light playfully across the brown Thames which now looks decidedly blue, and illuminates the office blocks and apartments in autumnal reds, rusts and oranges.
People may still be wearing their winter warmers, but now they flock to the beaches of the Thames and build sand castles and sand art. There are buckets and spades, and mothers waiting with wet wipes.
The trees have lost their winter frost and have started sprouting patches of green - tentatively testing the warm spring air and creating a fortress of greens and silver outside of the imposing Tate Museum.
In other places, the trees thrown caution to the wind and have done with winter completely. Here, tiny pink blossoms create candy floss trees worthy of carnivals and country orchards.
Oh I know. I'm taking Spring all a bit seriously right now. Still, the Globe Theatre is out to perform and I can think of nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon in the spring sun. Now, I just need to convince my husband that he feels the same way so I can book tickets.
Ha.
But spring.
Oh.
It more than makes up for it.
The skies are blue and the oldest buildings lose their grey coats and take on new summery wear in pale yellows, greens and pearly whites. They no longer fade into the distance.
The new buildings bounce the light playfully across the brown Thames which now looks decidedly blue, and illuminates the office blocks and apartments in autumnal reds, rusts and oranges.
People may still be wearing their winter warmers, but now they flock to the beaches of the Thames and build sand castles and sand art. There are buckets and spades, and mothers waiting with wet wipes.
The trees have lost their winter frost and have started sprouting patches of green - tentatively testing the warm spring air and creating a fortress of greens and silver outside of the imposing Tate Museum.
In other places, the trees thrown caution to the wind and have done with winter completely. Here, tiny pink blossoms create candy floss trees worthy of carnivals and country orchards.
Millions of Londoners have flocked to the South Bank to enjoy the sun, the street performers, and the spring festivals. The Millennium Bridge curves and moves almost musically, rhythmically, in a way I hadn't noticed for a while.
Oh I know. I'm taking Spring all a bit seriously right now. Still, the Globe Theatre is out to perform and I can think of nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon in the spring sun. Now, I just need to convince my husband that he feels the same way so I can book tickets.
Ha.
