The clouds ye so much dread ...
I may have used this line from a hymn before, as a title, but there you are. The funny thing is, we looked at this dramatic sky, noting how the livid colour of the clouds fairly set off the golden broom that was dotted along the forest track (not in this photo) and the sunlight on the path - and we didn't dread them at all. In fact, it wasn't until the tiny specks of rain we'd been feeling for ten minutes or so suddenly became battering hail stones that we realised we'd been a tad carefree, especially as, contrary to our usual prudence, we'd come out without cagoules.
In fact, I'd gone out wearing a thin windproof hoodie that was worse than useless at keeping me dry - the water sort of ran all over as well as through it - and by the time I got back to the car, fairly pounding down the last bit of track, I was soaked. All the way through. (We did try sheltering under the thick trees, but in fact the forest floor sloped downward so steeply we were scared of ending up deep in the forest ...)
Gorgeous walk, though - and the smell of the air after the first hailstorm was amazing.
(For the non-Episcopalians among my visitors: "The clouds ye so much dread/Are big with mercy, and shall break/In blessings on your head." )
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