Chasing Rain

We were up at Traprain Quarry where the gorse pathway tore my tights to shreds and Donald gallantly exclaimed that his jeans were only as thin as tights and he too was feeling the pain, ha ha.
On the way back we caught sight of the rain clouds over North Berwick and at that point East Linton still looked cosseted with sun.
Alas we never made it in time to save my washing.
It hung bedraggled and dripping upon the line.