Something strange is going on up in the sky – a big yellow ball is pouring down light upon us and one day this week there were distinct traces of warmth to be felt as well. Also, the rain has finally stopped. Britain has lived through two years of unusually heavy downpours. The official figures for England as a whole show more than 1,000 millimetres of rain fell in both 2023 and 2024. That has never happened before in back-to-back years. And the start of 2025 has been pretty rainy too.
Some weather experts blame the eruption of the giant Hunga Tonga undersea volcano in the South Pacific early in 2022 for significantly increasing global atmospheric water levels. Whatever the reason, let’s just enjoy the arrival of sunshine and give thanks that spring has sprung. For many of us, including me, that means getting out into our gardens to start making good the damage caused by prolonged brutally inclement weather.
Filthy patios, lawns with grass reduced to straggly clumps among the mud, dead geraniums poking out of pots like miniature leafless trees, soft seating left damp and mouldy despite having been covered by a heavy tarpaulin, ivy running amok along fencing and in borders. Also, some slob – probably me – thought it would be a good idea to leave excess cardboard packaging from Christmas in a heap by the shed. These are just some of the abominations to be tackled in my own garden.
The weekend is forecast to be dry and fine. Even next week, when temperatures are going to take another tumble, there will still be plenty of sunshine and not a lot of dampness around. So there are no excuses left for just sitting indoors and staring out at the wasteland. Many hours of physical labour lie ahead.
Yet the challenge is to be relished, not feared. The upside of things being in such a terrible state is that they can be visibly improved very quickly. In my case, I have already attacked the ivy and given the grass its first mow since late October. Patio-washing and a whole lot of sweeping up are next on the agenda. Then scrubbing down those outdoor sofa cushions and leaving them to dry and air in the sun.
I could go to a garden centre to stock up on some instant colour, but I suspect everyone else will have had the same idea, so I’m going to leave that one until mid-week when it will be quieter. Instead, the few pots of spring bulbs that are coming through will be moved to the best and most visible spots.
In our house we have a healthy disagreement about the best time of the year. I say spring for all the obvious reasons to do with seeing the back of winter and looking forward to many more hours of daylight and occasional warmth for the next seven months or so.
My better half considers spring a false friend, pointing out that many is the March or April day when one sets out in light clothing only to be left freezing as the early sun disappears and the thermometer plunges. “Ne’er cast a clout till May be out,” goes the old saying, though people can’t agree whether it refers to May the month or to the blossom of the Hawthorn tree. Anyhow, I wouldn’t want to sell you a pup: it’s definitely not yet.
But what does come right now is an end to the bleakness and some hope for the future. Many of us who have suffered bereavements over the winter can at last receive a signal from the heavens or from Mother Earth that time is starting to do its healing work. All being well – weather dependent, of course – I will be found by Sunday tea-time enjoying the first outdoor gin & tonic of the year in a tolerably attractive setting. Feeling even a flicker of warmth from the sun on my face will be an added bonus. Whatever is your equivalent moment of outdoor bliss, I hope you get to savour it too.
No more Hunga Tonga eruptions for a while please and no more freezing, horizontal rain. And water companies please note: would it be too much to ask that this year we should go through our sunnier months without a hosepipe ban being declared given all the replenishment of the aquifers that has gone on?
We’ve been battered, we’ve been soaked and now is the time, as Terry Jacks famously put it in his 1970s hit single, to have joy, fun and seasons in the sun.
