Not Spring yet

We find ourselves once again on the cusp of that controversial time of year - 1 September. It has become customary to celebrate this as Spring Day, despite the Spring equinox falling on 22 September when the season officially changes. Being of a slightly pedantic nature regarding this type of thing, which is clearly defined on the astronomical calendar, I refuse to entertain such celebrations and will continue to enjoy the last days of winter here in the Cape, particularly as we desperately need rain and shouldn't be in a hurry to say goodbye.

The light has not yet gained the clarity that comes with the onset of the southeaster and the murkiness of winter fires and smog lurks over the landscape, creating a warm orange glow along the horizon in the twilight hour, a not unattractive phenomenon. The scent of Spring comes as a sudden whiff, sometimes associated with violent bouts of sneezing, and until that day arrives, my winter wardrobe will not be packed away.
It's not that I'm not looking forward to Spring. It's just that I am loathe to conform to commercialism. You may call it Spring Day by all means. But for me it's on a par with celebrating the turn of the century in the wrong year.