Balls...

There would have been clouds. Perhaps. The intention was there. There isn't much else on the short walk to school, wrangling not one but two mutts and their silly self-tangling extendo-leads, a school bag that weighs about a ton and a half, a camera, and The Child. Plus the sky was grey; completely grey, in the way that only skies that have decided to be one solid monotonous block of nondescript shade somewhere on the scale between black and white can be.
And it was starting to rain...

Of course, I didn't take the camera on the way back to school. Just the dogs, who remained beautifully untangled for the whole walk under the sunshine, the blue skies and the big fluffy clouds that looked amazing. A proper Simpsons sky. And I felt like Marge, although I probably looked more like Homer.
The favourite field was looking brighter and more stunning than ever: the sun was gleaming off the pylons, the grass was a rich emerald and a lovely little honey buzzard of the type you usually only ever see disappearing forever in the 10 seconds it takes you to get a camera out of your pocket, was gliding leisurely across the valley - and back again, and again. The big fat bumble bees that have crowded the upper branches of the horse chestnuts, loud enough to be worrying but well out of sight for the past few days, were thronging round the bottom flowers and sitting on each bloom for what seemed like an eternity...

And there was I, camera-less woman, whose phone was of course, elsewhere...

So what you get is balls...