Bridge into autumn

I thought it was time for a colourful photo today, after the greys of yesterday's intrepid man on the roof. Heaven knows, today was dreary enough in the weather department for most of the time: I spent some time this morning looking out of the window with delight at the way the drainage off the new patio seems to be working perfectly - just as long as the main drain doesn't ever get blocked! I was seized by pre-trip angst again - I think it is chiefly the prospect of having to do things on time - but assuaged some of it by trotting up and down stairs with various packing cubes (is anyone else a fan of these? Best thing for dealing with clothes and stuff in hotel rooms ...) and squashing them into the case. I even remembered to put my walking poles in first. (Note to self: don't forget the cagoule!)

By lunchtime, however, having had the unwelcome call from the GP to tell me that my back x-rays had shown up "considerable wear and tear", I felt sufficiently low to call my friend Di and arrange to have a walk together regardless of the weather, as she had to walk the dogs anyway. In the event, it was actually dry by the time we'd had lunch and got out, so we met at Benmore and walked along the far side of the loch and back through the gardens, meeting several cars and some anglers who were having a conflab with two stationary vehicles blocking the way. Di pointed out that they can't walk anywhere in these waders ... 

The rain returned in torrents when we were five minutes from the cars, and despite our sheltering for a bit and not being caught out in the full horror of it we were pretty drookit by the time we'd finished. I got my blip, however, before the rain; the little red bridge to the island in the middle of the pond in Benmore Gardens was closed off all through Covid because it didn't allow for social distancing, so it's symbolic, in a way, as well as intrinsically attractive. The colours were simply wonderful; I always think they look so much more intense when the sun isn't shining.

Watched the third part of This England tonight; it reminded me forcibly of just how horrific these early months of Covid were, of the dire errors around sending people to care homes without testing. It also reinforced the fear of that time, of realising one was ill, of not knowing ... Would it have been worse if we'd known everything we do now?

And then of course there was the PM's conference speech. She called the Scots and the Welsh "these people" because we won't build more nuclear power stations or want to pay more tax ... Suitably alienated, yet again, I shall say goodnight!