Love in the Mist

I posted this photo earlier today on Instagram, and one of my local friends remarked that it was the story of every love story in Cowal: there's a deal of ironic wit around after this dreary summer. And today began with torrents of rain swishing down, turning our neighbour's path into a burn and overflowing the drains - mild, to be sure, but truly awful. By the time it was time for me to go to my painting class it was raining less heartily, and indeed there were splashes of dry between showers, but I got a lift nonetheless. It's no fun sitting for two hours in damp breeks. It was, however, fun to be back at my small-scale tiny-brush work in a small picture - my chosen milieu when it comes to what I've always liked doing.

I spent time in the afternoon preparing for a night away and - in the middle of packing an overnight bag - deciding that it was becoming far too warm for me to wear what I'd intended for tomorrow. Indeed, as the sun came out and shone into the back bedroom where I tend to do my packing, I could bear it no longer and off we went. First to the pharmacy, to pick up my regular prescription, then for a walk along the East Bay promenade. We'd barely started when I became irritated by having a paper bag to carry; I disposed all the boxes of pills between two pockets in my cagoule and carefully disposed of the bag in a bin. Must've looked quite odd, but there were so few people around there was no-one to look.

Gradually we became so warm we actually sat down for a bit, in bright sunshine, the sea rushing and sucking back in front of us. The sun was shining out of one patch of blue surrounded by dark clouds, and lasted until we were on our way home. It was a reminder of what summer might feel like ...

And now we've had our dinner early and I'm on my way to bed an hour early for me. Tomorrow will see a hideously early start, and there may be no blip till I'm home, depending on whether I'm fit to type on the phone.

Till then ...