KEY POINTS:
As I write this, the wind is whistling through a crack in the window frame and horizontal rain is lashing the side of the house.
It's dark and cold, but that doesn't mean the border collie will opt to stay indoors today. No, this bitter weather resonates deep
within his DNA and prompts distant memories of canine ancestors who controlled the Scottish highlands. He'll be as happy as a little Celtic clam an hour from now, running through the mud and the grass of the local dog-walking park.
But I will not be happy. I'll be rugged up as best I can, but there's no fun to be had for a human in trudging in a dog's wake on a cold, wet day. The washing will have to go into the drier, the dog will smell like wet carpet until November, and there'll be no more swims at the beach for me.
I hate winter, and the older I get, the more I hate it. Look back to summer. Admittedly, it started a little late, but once it got cracking, it was gorgeous. Strolling around the city during summer was a joy. Dads playing soccer with their kids in the park, beautiful young things decorating tables along the streets, glowing with good health and expensive liquor, strangers passing the time of day with one another - it's a pleasant and civilised time of the year.
Contrast that with winter, and we all batten down the hatches and become insular and isolated. We scuttle from home, to car, to work and back again like little grey slaters and can barely disguise the loathing we feel for those workmates who turn up to work with martyred expressions and streaming noses, who sit sneezing wetly at their computer terminals, spreading their mucky cold germs through the air conditioning.
Oh, sure, winter is a good excuse for pea and ham soup and osso bucco, but hearty winter food is not a sufficient enough inducement for me to welcome winter with open arms. So roll on global warming. Bring it on.
The scientific lobby made up of Chicken Lickens who predict the sky is going to fall in and we're all going to die as a result of mankind's wanton destructive ways is coming up against some opposition from a lobby group whose members until recently have been indicted as climate-change deniers and perceived as SUV-driving flakes with their hands in the sand. Now people are beginning to debate the issue - sure, the planet is warming up, but where the scientific community is split is on whether the changing weather patterns are part of the earth's cycle or whether the change in temperature can be attributed to man's folly.
Whatever or whoever is at fault, it's going to cost us - not just through the taxes levied by the Government as part of its commitment to the flawed Kyoto Protocol. Farmers can also expect to suffer the effects of floods on the West Coast and droughts on the east, and owners of those marvellous coastal properties might also find themselves high and dry, or rather flat and wet, if the Insurance Council decides their beachfront mansions are too risky to insure. The report of the UN Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change was released this week and had some sobering forecasts for this country. We can expect severe storms, coastal erosion and flooding - pretty much what we get now through winter, but more so.
Quite frankly, shivering in my den, dreading the thought of piling on thermals for the next six months, global warming can't come soon enough. Besides, if the gentle waters of Westmere end up lapping the verandah of our humble Grey Lynn cottage, I'll finally get the beachfront property I've always wanted.
