Two mornings at twelve degrees

An original exposition about choosing what to wear.

On Monday morning, the temperature shown on the kitchen screen was twelve degrees. I treated the number like an instruction and pulled on my thickest coat. By the time I reached the end of the road, the sun was bright and I was carrying the coat over one arm.

On Tuesday, the screen displayed twelve degrees again. Remembering the day before, I chose a thin jumper. This time, a sharp wind hurried between the houses and found every gap in my clothing. Fine rain followed me to the bus stop. The number had stayed the same, but the morning had changed completely.

At first, I blamed the screen. Then I realised that it had not promised to make my decision for me. It had given one useful measurement, but I had expected it to describe the wind, the rain, the sunshine and even how long I would be outside. The number had become bossy only because I had handed it too much authority.

For the rest of the week, I kept a simple record. Beside each temperature, I added a few notes about the sky and my journey. Twelve degrees during a quick walk in sunshine did not feel like twelve degrees while standing in rain. My search for a perfect rule began to look rather foolish.

A temperature reading is like the headline of an article: it offers important information, but it is not the whole account. I still check the number before leaving home. Now, however, I also look through the window and think about where I am going. The screen provides a starting point; it does not choose my clothes.

The writer's view changes during the passage. Explain what causes this change and how the writing makes the lesson clear. Use evidence from the passage.

In your answer, you could consider:

• the contrast between the two mornings
• the language used to describe the screen and the temperature
• the writer's conclusion.