Round here, winter is glorious, with fresh breezes, bright sunshine, clear air, and temperatures that remind me of late spring and early summer in Britain and Vancouver Island, or spring in Toronto. The humidity drops — not enough to prevent misty moisty mornings and evenings, not enough to stop the dew forming on the grass — but enough to make it unlikely that you’re going to break into a sweat just walking from your front door to your car.
But it only takes a day.
And that day was yesterday. The humidity’s creeping back up. The breeze is still fresh, but the air is warm, not cool. It’s not hell, not yet — with luck, we’ll wait for May for that — but it’s hot enough to make you pray you find shade for your car when you park it, and hot enough to make me want to get every air conditioner I have checked.
It’s only March. What the summer’ll be like I dread to think.