I liked that it rained at the park today. It was meant to stay dry, but somehow the rain allowed me a little more room to be quiet and apart from the bigger, chattering groups that had gathered.

I liked the way the rain felt as it soaked my hair and face on our walk back to the car. I let my sensory-seeking daughter walk shoeless along the pavement. After her year of dutifully donning her school uniform and pulling on a daily mask of socially appropriate behaviour, I was glad to allow her the small freedom of bare feet on wet ground.

I liked how we walked past the tall maize and had time to notice it. I liked how the air felt. If not summery, then fresh.

I liked how restful it felt to change into warm, comfortable clothes at home, to eat warm food and drink coffee.

While I had been at work, someone had left us a little table, chairs and parasol, and I liked how it looked on our patio. The bright white, blue and pink looked happily incongruous in the rain.

We’re beginning our summer holidays now, and I look forward to the freedom of doing what works for us, even if, like the unseasonal weather, this seems at odds with popular expectation. I look forward to finding our own, small and sometimes eccentric ways to savour each moment. And I look forward to resting in the time we have to be our own, gloriously imperfect selves.