Well, all that rain

I didn’t sleep so well last night, the rain hammering down on the skylight, a roar of water escaping the hill in our clefty torrent that drops vertiginous to the road and the bigger torrent below. Torrent feeding torrent until the feeder valley torrents are busting to break out of their canalised straitjackets, bound in with stone embankment and plunging weirs.

This is the Solano at Strada with the old borgo of Castel San Nick above, the battlements where the besieged dead were hung back in some way gone century - the thirteenth if memory serves.

The bridge is wider than you think. I drove over it looking for a way out of a one way street. It was tight but I had to retrace the steps after a wood van came through. I came across a map yesterday showing all these bridges destroyed in the IIWW.

The rain gauge was full at 70mm and still it kept falling, another 15mm. I went and looked at the Arno that had briefly bust its banks at the Teggina confluence, taped off with the Municipale’s not very officious red and white tape.

The day drifted in and out of foggy night until night came as I trundled over glistening roads back from a last trip to the co-op.