London was awash with a long-forgotten vibrancy. Shaking off its winter cloak, albeit temporarily, the sun shone and the temperatures hovered precariously around ‘warm’.
It was on this day, seemingly the lone day of ‘summer’ all year, that I left London for Vienna. Vienna, which, on this day, remained steadfastly undecided on its wardrobe of overcast or raining. On this day, Vienna was a city being threatened by a flooding river, and I could not help but sigh at the injustice.
London had dragged itself dutifully through seven months of winter. I had given up talk of purchasing a seasonal affective disorder (SAD) light sometime in March, and clung purely to the hope of a brighter day. The day that I left for Vienna.
Vienna’s beauty, however, is indifferent to the elements. Its delicate yet structured architecture, standing brilliant in the shade, reminded me of the type of wedding cake that left Steve Martin’s George Banks character agog in Father of the Bride, or the type of dress -- elegant, soft, and defined -- akin to that worn by women dancing the Viennese Waltz.
As I made my way around the city to and from the Power-Gen Europe conference that I was attending, Vienna infused me with the warmth and sense of calm that comes from a still summer day. I had found my sunshine in the rain.
