Seasons

God I missed them! Daylight savings started yesterday (or finished - I can never remember when we're spending and when we're saving), which means that it's still bright when I get home and I can look out the bus window and see the jacaranda trees in bloom everywhere. It's also that feeling that you've got time in the evenings again, even if you have to get up an hour earlier. Best of all though are the memories triggered by the heat: an afternoon of fielding at cricket, a lazy afternoon at the pub, or even just sweating it out on public transport. That first hot breeze of the season is just as evocative as any aroma or snatch of music.

One of the crappiest things about living in Bogota was the absence of seasons, the constant drizzly weather, and every cab driver talking about invierno and verano like there was actually a difference. There wasn't. And although this probably reads like more Sydney vs Bogota talk, I've actually been feeling much more mellow lately about the whole thing. Coming to the conclusion that it doesn't matter where you live as long as you're in a good place energy-wise.