It’s the final week of February, and the gloom that characterised much of the past few months seems to have lifted. I don’t know whether it’s the news of the hopeful return to normalcy in the coming months or simply the crisp mornings with their blue skies and gentle sun, but things are looking up.
It’s funny how the weather can make such a tangible impact on our moods and outlooks. With the beautiful spring days we’ve had over the past week, I feel infinitely more positive. I have frequently caught myself daydreaming of beer gardens and picnics with friends – much to my dissertations chagrin. As I write this, I’m looking over at a bunch of daffodils sitting on my coffee table, in bloom and indicative of the imminent arrival of warmer and longer days. Although we’re only just entering March, and Spring won’t be in full flow for another few weeks, the brief glimpse we got this weekend is the boost we all needed to keep on going.
I woke up, bleary-eyed, on Saturday morning to the sun pouring in through my blinds – and for once, I wasn’t cursing that it had woken me from my slumber. Looking out my window, I saw people walking without big puffer jackets on, scarves and hats, all of which had been abandoned for t-shirts and, in some instances, shorts. It seems at any slight peep of the sun, we Brits get rid of all our inhibitions, abandon reason and act like it’s the middle of August. And I’m pretty sure this is not just a lockdown thing. I took one look at the crisp blue sky and knew I couldn’t waste the day indoors under my duvet – no matter how hungover I felt. So, I took myself onto campus to simply bask in the sun.
When I got to the lake, it seems everyone else had had the same idea. The park was full of families and children, couples and friends; the ice cream van must have made a fortune – despite it only being 10 degrees. It was almost like ‘normal’ times. Kids playing, adults laughing, everyone’s mood seemed infinitely raised. I made my way up to the Trent Building and found a lonesome bench that was bathing in the direct sunlight. I stayed there for a few hours, just reading my book and marvelling at how beautiful everything was. Taking in deep breaths, the scent of pollen and the fresh, crisp breeze felt like medicine to my body. It’s kind of ironic, really, that during covid times when the only thing we can do is meet people outside, an unexpected burst of sunshine and suddenly the population seems to have doubled. Walking suddenly doesn’t seem so bad, and all everyone wants to do is be outside. And who can blame them? This spell of gorgeous weather seems like the relief we all needed from the monotony of everyday life; the hopelessness of our situation temporarily lifted.
Walking through Wollaton Park, campus, and the streets of Lenton with friends on Sunday made it clear that the students of Nottingham had, in fact, decided that winter is over, and we are now in full-fledged summer mode. There were clusters of people on every patch of grass, music blaring, a faint waft of beer and other unknown substances in the air – we all agreed it smelt somewhat like a festival. February seemed like a world away, and everyone was embracing the blue skies and gentle breezes. It filled me with a burst of excitement for the months to come, where we will (rules allowing) be able to sit with friends in a pub garden or restaurant, go to the cinema, or just be able to sit in a park with a gaggle of friends watching the sun go down. I could feel the anticipation in the air.
This burst of vitamin D seemed to make things bearable. It makes the simplest things, like being outside on a walk with a friend, so invigorating and refreshing. Settling into my sofa on Sunday evening, I felt ready to face the next week, like the sun had recharged my batteries, and the thought of another week of lectures and reading wasn’t so bad after all. Although waking up on Monday morning to a pretty grey and cloudy day – in true British style – wasn’t quite the view I wanted, the past few days were a reminder that Spring is in sight. This weekend was a blessing from above and felt like the world telling us to keep on going; we’re almost there, better days are coming – and they’re not far off.