Some from the flower bed behind the house…
And some from the road side flowers on the walk up the hill…
Photos of weeds on the hogs back, from last week’s walks…
Today is exactly nine years since we packed up our lives in my beloved Bombay and landed in London.
Time, it crawls and it flies.
Got my OCI card in the post today. The document transition is now complete
…from the Indian passport & the British permanent visa (indefinite leave to remain)
…to the British passport & the Indian permanent visa (overseas citizen of India)
They were initially bemused by the complexity of bus timetables, bin collections and—most of all—by the changeable weather. “In our country, when it’s summer, it’s summer,” says Ziead Alsaouah, Mr Batak’s son-in-law.
—The Economist | After the exodus
I had a very similar reaction to the weather when I moved here 8 years ago.
North India, where I spent the first 24 years of my life, has a very predictable weather. When it’s summer, it’s hot and dry for months on end. When it’s the rain season, it’s raining almost every day for a month. And when winter arrives, it’s bitterly cold, mostly dry, and frequently foggy (recently smoggy) for months on end.
Contrast that to the weather here on the island – it’s common to have at least two seasons in a day. Three’s not uncommon either. We had two months of constant dry, warm summers this year, and it’s already caused a mild panic. If we get a week of snow in the winter, news bulletins are full of ‘snowcalypse’ references.
It’s unsettling, at least initially, for people coming from places with stable, ‘continental’ weather patterns. Where culture, life, traditions, activities are based on the season, what do we do when the seasons just aren’t anymore?
.. is hard. Even when the change is conscious, and (hopefully) for the better.
Grey, cold, and drizzling.
Just the way I love the UK to welcome me back.
And quite a change after 2 weeks in beautifully warm, but horribly smoggy India.