Half a week of driving rain blown down and across on the wind, so that your head stays dry but everything from the stomach down is bound to get soaked. Pond-sized puddles in every roadside dent, reflecting a smudged pencil sky that clings to the rooftops and very occasionally breaks into a gloomy mix of light and dark greys. Temperatures scrape into double figures. Umbrellas go up and gas fires back on.
Another summer begins.