Things can only ...

Well, they did. At least, the weather got better - spectacularly so. It was still raining when I woke, though not as enthusiastically as when I went to sleep, and though it wasn't actually raining when we left for church I was aware that the grass had become decidedly soggy in our garden. I was also aware of dressing for autumn - my orange parka-type coat, a black shirt and trousers, an autumnal scarf - as were several of us in the congregation. There was no heating on, so by the end of the service I was quite ... cool. And then we went outside, and the grey sky had retreated to the mountains and the sun was shining and the world was transformed. 

We couldn't face getting out the seats and wiping down the outdoor table, so coffee and then lunch were indoors, but I went outside when I'd eaten and fell asleep in the sun - even on the very flat, very angular wooden bench outside the back door. However, I wasn't there long as we made the most of this unexpected weather by hightailing it down to Toward to walk along the shore road and sit on the beach for a while in the surprising heat. 

You may be interested (or not) to know that all through these activities I was aware of a conversation going on on Twitter. I was aware of it because I'd joined in with a comment before I was even out of bed this morning; this turned out to be the reason why, twelve hours later, I was giving my pennyworth on the nature of the bible. People can be sufficiently dogmatic to make me unable to leave it alone ...

Blipping a sparkly sea scene at Toward, looking over the Firth to Bute and - way beyond - Arran. There's a shag (or cormorant) sitting on the rocky shore and reminding me of my late head of department, an Australian woman one of whose favourite expressions was "as happy as a shag on a rock." Apparently in Australia they call cormorants shags anyway, so maybe my ignorance doesn't matter.