Elderflower

Champagne anyone?

Finding a still point to take a photograph of flowers was difficult today.

The violence of the air movement was stunning.

Equally stunning was the amount of water which fell in 20 post-lunch minutes.

But, by hometime the water was all but gone, drunk down by the dry, thirsty earth.

The wind was still tricky.

In the wood at the bottom of the hill there is a glade with sunny spots and sheltered from the unkind draught.

The flowers of Mother Elder, their scent set off by the shower, perfumed the air and appeared otherworldly in the mottled light.

A hundred yards away a tree had been blown down into the baby cabbages!