The impulsive sceptic

England and weather always seem to be at loggerheads. The weather does injustice to the beautiful countryside. When the weather god smiles at England, it reveals a gorgeous sky and picturesque landscape. If you are surprised by the statement, then you may multiply it tenfold to imagine mine, and I found it through experience, not from written word or spoken word. This strange paradox forms the misfortune that has befallen on the England's natural beauty. 

Today is one of those days when the sun is shining, and all kinds of summer dresses are on display. Good weather is directly proportional to a happy mood. As a result, I was in high spirits when I walked into the meeting. I was one of the early bird. An Englishman joined me shorted. As we waited for others to join, I couldn't help comment. "A beautiful day. Isn't it?" After I had uttered these words, I felt proud. For once, I thought I had nailed the icebreaker. This time, luck was on my side. There are many other times where there was no luck, and I prefer amnesia to the aftermath. 

There was no visible change on the Englishman's composure. His lips moved and formed the following sentence. "Well... if it lasts..." I waited for eyebrows to raise, a shrug, a flick... I waited for what seems to be an eternity. But there was no such thing from an Englishman. I can't understand this strange phenomenon. Why do they have to skeptical about everything? Why can't they just see a small slice of happiness or good weather, in this case, acknowledge it and move forward? Is it a sin in this part of the world to be happy?

Picture Courtesy: Ruth Ellison