Sunrise with Land Monsters

The sun made only a brief showing this morning, then the murk swallowed it, the murk became cloud, and eventually the cloud unleashed that rarest of things - rain. Not much, just enough to give the soil and pavements that delicious summery, after the rain smell. And at last today, I heard my first Summer visitor: as I stepped out of the car at work, a warbler was chiff-chaffing (some three weeks later than I usually hear one).

Towards the end of the working day, the cold virus made another comeback. I'm running a temperature and my head aches like it might burst. So, my comments will again be sparse this evening as I shall be having a very early night.

I don't know why, but this image makes me think of Sunrise with Seamonsters, the title of a compendium of Paul Theroux travel writing. Why? There is no dripping seaweed draped over the beast, just a dry, red shaggy coat, and we are half a mile from the estuary as the raven flies, and about 500 vertical feet above it.