The rain it raineth every day
Upon the just and unjust fella
But more upon the just because
The unjust hath the just's umbrella
Standing on the top of a hill when an Atlantic front is giving us a pasting is one of the unexpected pleasures of an English summer. Yeah, I know, all the jokes about British weather, it's supposed to rain all the time, but really it doesn't. Instead we get wild skies and fast moving heavy showers so while it seems to be raining a lot of the time in reality in any one place it's only raining for a short time. Hell, I've been to Vancouver, now there's a place where it can rain all the time!
I've just spent a lunchtime looking out over the floodplain of one of our great rivers watching a small town twenty miles away receiving a thorough soaking. All around me was lush green new growth, above me was a steel-grey fast moving cloudscape and before me one of Nature's finest free live shows. I was taking some bracing exercise to fight the waves of tiredness and set myself up for an afternoon in the office.
Unfortunately I didn't quite walk fast enough. Next time I must remember my Gore-Tex before going out when there's a risk of showers. The one that caught me is now deafening on the tin roof of our building. My colleagues think my current bedraggled state is very funny indeed.