only happy when it’s rained
Monsoon season is here in global-warming London and it is wonderful and disquieting in almost-equal measures. Last night I was woken by the downpour. There’s something irresistibly sexy about water falling in sheets from the steamy sky – I’m still waiting for the day when someone takes me dancing naked in the rain. Under the covers, my body came out in sympathy by sending rivulets of sweat down my neck, limbs and chest.
Although the weather is freakishly hot, the days are resolutely getting shorter – autumn is here even if the temperature says otherwise. My circadian clock has responded by making it virtually impossible to get out of bed before 6.30am, no matter that I’m usually asleep before 10pm. There’s something wrong about putting on summer clothes in a room lit by electricity.
I celebrated the sweet smell of damp leaves and grass by walking the long way to the office through Embankment Gardens and found myself remembering the 7 July Remembrance Garden, which has long since disappeared. That thought led me back to 9/11 – my memories of the day itself focus on talking to TA who, working at a bank, had access to the latest news on Bloomberg; leaving work early; walking through a deserted city; seeing that the Evening Standard sellers had gone home – all their papers sold; and a quiet evening with TA in his studio apartment. These memories are misted with the romance of the earliest days of our relationship – when that tiny studio was a bubble of extraordinary possibility, a nest of intimacy. My mind wandered, tracking the path of diminishing returns since each anniversary. That first 18 months when every article I edited name checked “the recent terrible events” no matter if it was for a hospital, aviation, defence, hotel, oil and gas or superyacht title. It seemed as though the world had been knocked off its axis.
To bring things full circle, it seems as though global warming really will knock the world off its axis – making London feel equatorial. Meanwhile, our leaders are too busy building sandcastles and fighting the war on terror to notice that the tide is rising.