I think the loveliest time of the year is the spring. At least, some sorts of spring. The spring I like is neither uncomfortably warm nor uncomfortably cold, and it's full of pretty but not actually inconvenient weather effects such as light April showers, pleasant thin mists (not serious fog) in the mornings, wall-to-wall rainbows, complicated cloud arrangements with unexpected lighting, and so forth.

Today we have clear blue skies and an uninterrupted stream of sunlight, which caused my car to be a greenhouse when I nipped out shopping at lunchtime. This is the wrong spring; this is summer-only-less-so. If I want summer, I can wait until June; for now I'd like some proper spring before it stops being, well, the season for it.