There’s something about the sunshine, isn’t there? I woke up this morning and there it was: splashing itself across the garden in the most brazen way. I made pancakes, smoothies, fruit yoghurt. The coffee thrust itself upwards in the cafetière as though it couldn’t wait to be brewed.
We sat on the deck beneath the heat of the gazebo, and we could almost have been in the tropics, save for the intermittent buzz of lawnmowers so peculiar to the English spring.
Could it have been more perfect? I don’t think so. Happy children, happy parents, happy puppy – dancing between pairs of bare feet you would think were provided expressly for her pleasure. I had that notion one feels at a party or concert, where one steps back from the crowd and looks down upon the revelry. I watched my children laugh at nothing, smile at each other, giggle at some unseen joke. I felt warmth spread throughout me and I basked in the happiness I had helped to create. My family. My perfect, happy family.
When the clouds gathered overhead I shuddered, bracing myself for the inevitable chill. But the smiles didn’t fade, and the laughter didn’t die, and the warmth in my heart remained despite the shadow in the sky. And I realised the happiness I felt had nothing to do with the weather. Sunshine doesn’t bring happiness – it simply helps you see it a little more clearly.