Summer in spring. Oh, dear.

Everyone likes sunshine and no rain. One can, however, have 'too much of a good thing'.

We've had no significant rainfall for weeks. Temperatures this coming week will be in the low 20 degrees Celsius with no rain forecast. Rather like last week, and the week before that, and the week before that.

Newspapers are already remarking on the lack of rainfall. The town of Viersen is encouraging its residents to chuck a bucket of water or two over the plants in the streets. "They'll thank you for it," the town authorities claim.

Topsoil is becoming like dust. Walk in the park and you'll come back with very dusty shoes. No point in cleaning them; they'll just get dusty on the next walk.

In 2009, I went on a two-week bus tour: one week around Syria, one around Jordan. In the first week, we set off from Damascus, heading east towards Palmyra. For hours and hours and hours, all we could see stretching far into the distance was dust, sandy-coloured dust. Not a shred of green anywhere apart from a few blades of grass near a building. The only bit of relief from the sandy-coloured dust came from the black plastic shopping bags that had got caught in the sand and were waving merrily in the wind. Loads of them.

I had left Germany in April, when the buds were just about on the trees. I returned two weeks later in April and the trees were all in leaf. I walked through my local park, went on a bike ride to and around the lake called Unterbacher See and all throughout I marvelled at how green everything was. Basically, 40 shades of green.

And then I realised how silly I had previously been, always wanting to have fine sunny weather. Without the rain, we would have deserts as they have in eastern Syria. With it, we have the lush green landscapes of northern Europe. Since then, I've not complained about rain.

I'm complaining about the rain now, though: we don't have enough of it. And that's bad.