The hill above the town caught fire yesterday evening. I have never seen that happen in my life. Thankfully, the gravel paths around the bottom and top of the hill were enough to keep it mostly contained between them, but still. One entire side of the hill, less than half a mile from my house. I've never seen that in my life.
(Apparently it used to be on fire more often, deliberately so, back when the council used to burn the gorse back every few years, but not for a decade or so now)
It was snowing in March. There was three feet of snow here just over four months ago. And now the hill is on fire. There's little fires still scattered around it. I think I'd prefer the snow back. I was never fond of excessive heat from a standing start. This is IRELAND. Famously rainy Ireland. I would like some rain back.
(My Nan doesn't. She wants the sunshine to never stop. I'm here, Nan, THE HILL IS ON FIRE. Please don't give the weather gods any worse ideas, okay?)
I never liked summer. The only thing I like about summer is the length of the days and also swimming. All this goddamned heat and sunburn and bugs and fire can fuck right back off.