I love the way our winter is just long enough, and grey enough that by the end of it we’ve almost forgotten spring is round the corner, writes blogger Emma Suddaby.

Just when we’ve lost hope, cloaked in fog and drizzle, the annual miracle starts to stir. Green shoots appear in the mud, the first brave flowers raise their heads, a splash of colour above the deadwood and the weather begins to soften, bright skies and warm breezes.

And don’t the birds just seem to sing louder and more tunefully than before?

We really are lucky to live in a perpetually changing landscape. Our seasons are a uniquely British treasure. Yes, other countries have seasons but they are not so defined nor so varied, nor so, well, English as ours.

And no matter how many droughts the Water Board tells us we’re suffering, our heavy rainfall quotas are what makes our countryside so green and lush.

I remember travelling back from the airport after a holiday some time ago. I can’t recall exactly where I’d been now, but it had been hot and dry. I’d loved soaking up the sun whilst away but watching the beautiful English countryside, rolling past the car window reminded me that our often soggy weather is the price we pay for that lush green landscape.

Compared with the hot, arid and dusty environment around the holiday resort, our field and trees looked almost fluffy with health and vitality, our green and pleasant land, our very own Paradise.

I’m only surprised that we haven’t been obliged to bring our weather into line with that of our European neighbours – yet. Nothing would surprise me any more and as it’s one of the few uniquely British assets we have left, it’s surely only a matter of time before English weather is standardised to fit in with EU guidellines.

Talking EU’s (or should that be Ewes?! groan), and I could be getting paranoid on this one, but has anyone else noticed how few black sheep there seem to be this Spring?

I’m starting to fear that black sheep will go the way of the supermarket vegetable, and along with rows and rows of big, shiny, identical, unblemished veg on the supermarket shelves, we’ll soon have flocks and flocks of huge, identical, fluffy, non-muddy white sheep in our fields.

Britain is all about quirkiness, we love all our little national foibles, we’ve always been the maverick nation in the international world, a tiny little island with a mighty determination and a great big, heart.

I just feel we’re going to need every ounce of that mighty determination to enable us to hang on, tooth and nail, to our Britishness, as everything around us is pureed into a one-size-fits-all, European soup.

Because we all know that one-size-fits-all, never actually fits anyone . . .

• Inspirational Emma Suddaby shares her ” highs, lows – and various murky places inbetween” – with her blog. Emma, a finalist in the 2007 Shropshire Star Woman of the Year competition, was diagnosed with aggressive, destructive rheumatoid arthritis at the age of 22. She has since won a dream flying scholarship with the charity Flying Scholarships for the Disabled and is now training for a National Private Pilot’s Licence.