Spring was cancelled this year. There was no official statement to that effect but, suddenly, the short street where I found my new flat has trees heavy laden with leaf. Summery twenty-five degrees means serious competition if you want a table on the sidewalks of Schwabing. The natives are blithely ignoring the Scots adage, “ne’er cast a clout ‘til May be out”.
Not that I have anything against a bit of clout-casting when this brings forth female forms no longer swaddled against freezing wind, driving rain and other meteorological miseries we had to contend with just weeks ago.
As I mull over the post I promised to observe the fortieth anniversary of May '68 I find myself struggling to recall what the weather was like that year. Most of the black-and-white photos I find speak of overcast weather matching the mood with cinematic eloquence.
Although in The Dreamers Bertolucci re-created the demo at the Cinémathèque Nationale in blazing sunshine...
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