Rain in due season?

I'd got used to the idea of dry, sunny weather, of going out without a jacket, of the flowers holding their heads up and the pots needing watered in the evening: silly me. Of course it wouldn't last. The rain came on today some time after lunch and by teatime the grass was soggy, every bloom was drooping, and the pots were black and didn't need me. 

I was still tired when I woke up, so tired in fact that I felt I couldn't see properly, and I wasn't downstairs till after 9am. Porridge helped a bit, and I pottered round putting things away and phoning last night's host and making arrangements for subsequent meetings, to say nothing of reading all the posts on social media about our diocese and catching up on both my Italian and my blip for yesterday. I spent time reading the Sunday paper; I fell asleep; I woke and saw the rain. 

But I felt I had to go out - not least because after the emotional highs of yesterday came the inevitable low mood today, and it usually works, rain or no rain, to take it out for some air. We went to Benmore, not to the gardens but to walk along the road that goes round the perimeter and on along the far bank of the River Eachaig. The first thing we were aware of when we got out of the car was the noise coming from the river, and my photo shows the cause of it. The big house in the gardens is now an outdoor centre for Edinburgh Schools, and the red waterproof outsize jackets and overtrousers are the standard issue to the city kids exploring the countryside. Today's exercise clearly involved crossing the river on foot, a madness I've not seen them do before, presumably because in normal circs the water is far too deep and swirling. One child had clearly had enough and was being led by the hand away, back to the house, by one of the staff; another was actually sitting down in the water, though he'd got up by the time we were on the bridge and I took the photo. I once borrowed a set of these waterproofs to wear at a CND action at the Holy Loch Base on a snowy, freezing day - they're unlike any other waterproofs I've ever worn.              And they always look too big for the child inside ...

Anyway, I felt better after the walk. Even in the rain - or because of it - the colours were vibrantly beautiful - bright, varied greens, pink and purple rhododendrons in the forest, the wonderful red-brown of a felled, split tree that had come down in a gale. We passed a gunnera big enough for Himself to shelter under one of its leaves without bending. (Extra) And two red squirrels ran across our path just in front of us. Joy.

I've just slept through the entire Ten O'Clock News. What a wet Sunak is, though - literally and metaphorically. And what a total disregard for Scotland, to hold a general election at the start of the school holidays, when hundreds of families take their holidays before the peak of the season...

Enough. Mustn't get grumpy at bedtime.