The weather gods
If you're like me, you’re looking forward to spring.
Like an idiot. Every year. Perhaps you have invested heavily in new hiking equipment; maybe you bought a PET flask of whiskey and some sausages. Tent season has started! But as surely as the Prince, the poet behind Sometimes it snows in April, has parked the purple slippers, the weather gods will take him at his word.
Where there five minutes earlier was reason to consider T-shirt rather than a woollen sweater, the snow is pouring. Dear weather gods, you have the last laugh – this year too. But next year it's my turn.