Rainbow Sunday

Well, that was a change! Despite the fact that, presumably, the jet stream is still far to the south of us, today became warm, simply because it was sunny throughout, though in the afternoon we could see dramatically defined showers over Bute and The Other Side. I dressed for church more as one might in October, because it takes a while for our building to be anything resembling warm, but by the time we came out the sun had real heat in it.

The service this morning underlined how lucky I feel to be a part of this community, and it seemed as if that sense was shared by everyone as we spread through the small car park. There was a great deal of admiration for the gleaming bikes that two recent members of the congregation had arrived on, and cheers as they growled off down the drive - nothing like the staid image most people have of the demeanour of the average congregation. I always say we should have a bumper sticker: Piskies have more fun. 

The feel-good morning continued with my pal Di coming for coffee in the garden, something we have taken for granted for years until Covid spoiled so much. (We'd actually cleaned up the dining room, intending to jump the gun by a day and invite her indoors, but it was so hot in the garden we were all pink and shiny by the time she left...) I couldn't help observing, however, how hopeless are weekends in suburbia (for where we live is quite suburban, despite the nature of the town). No sooner had we started chatting than the neighbour on our right started pressure-washing their patio, so that we had to shout; and when I went out after lunch to plant some sweet peas there was complete bedlam as not one but two power mowers competed in the big garden on the other side. Peaceful it was not. Remember when the sound of summer was the soporific clicking of a hand-pushed mower? 

We went a walk instead of putting up with the noise, heading south away from the cumulus accumulating over the hills. We met and had a long conversation with a charming former pupil, from whom we learned The Secret of the Hay Bales: they are indeed to stop debris and mud from silting up waterways; they are used by the Forestry Commission; the forestry company for whom he works regard the bales as inefficient and construct small dams instead. So now we all know!

The main photo and one of the extras are from this evening, about 9pm. I went through to the front room and was surprised by a dramatic rainbow which had me (again) hanging out of the window taking far too many photos. The extra is of the sky as the rainbow faded, about 20 minutes later; another 10 minutes and all was grey.

ecce autem bibit arcus, pluet credo
hercle hodie.*  Let's hope not ...

* But look, the rainbow is drinking, I do think it’ll rain today. (Plautus)