sun-starved

June has come and gone and taken my delusions of a summer in Wales with it. Today is the first of July -- Happy Canada Day! -- and I am struggling mightily with sun deprivation.

I am certain this is the longest I have been in my lifetime without continued sunshine and its basking warmth and it is affecting my mental health and attitude more than I would like. At least today it is not raining.

I am beginning to dress like the Brits, wearing sandals and inappropriate summer gear when the weather clearly calls for the continued use of sweaters and jackets. When I first moved here I couldn't realize why people did this. Are the British uncommonly tough? Maybe. Now I find myself doing it -- don't know if the reasons are the same or not -- it may be delusional optimism, but I fear it really has more to do with a perverse stubbornness: if the skies are not providing summer I will nonetheless pretend it exists.

So far, the warmest days of blissful sunbathing occurred in a heat wave in April.

I was fortunate last night though. On my third attempt this week at capturing solar heat at Roath Park I was finally successful for more than a ten-minute interval. I'm reading a book on Audrey Hepburn and found a bench stirred by the evening sun and away from the constant winds. (I did have to submit, however, and replace my flipflops and capris for the standard long pants, socks, shoes and jacket.)

And then ... strawberries from heaven! Literally. A young woman approached me, said hello, and offered me an unopened box of fresh strawberries. She was from a local church and she and her friends were handing out boxes of strawberries to people. At first I wondered if I looked homeless and destitute, but realized I was just sitting on a bench reading.

I actually hadn't bought any strawberries this season as they are expensive. I forget I have an 'accent' here, and after only a few words the young woman asked me where I was from (often a good conversation-starter as well). She herself was from South Africa and was in Cardiff to attend university. She hoped to get to Canada one day to see the autumnal colours. Aah, I agreed -- very beautiful (I am more than a little homesick for friends, family and differing seasons right now). The fall here is damp and yellowy-brown, not as crisp or colourful as back home.

After she left, with an invite to attend her church (I find many of the churches here have a very involved student population), I waited awhile and then opened the box. Warm sweetness in an evening sun, with a surprising taste of wildness that I wasn't expecting, reminded me how Cardiff and Wales always surprises me with unexpected kindnesses, people creating their own sunshine.