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Whatever the calendar or the old customs say, today was the first day of autumn. Steady rain, blinding sunlight, torrential showers, gusting wind, dull grey skies, warm stillness, dramatic clouds scudding across brilliant blue, lightning and thunder, a certain underlying chill. And then, after breakfast...

Between the downpours, it felt good to be outside. For the first time for months, it felt like England: alive again, entertaining again, predictably unpredictable, refreshing, air with oxygen in it. I thought this timely article described very well the uneasiness many of us have felt this past summer - both relishing the warm, rain-free days and feeling unnerved by them - a sentiment I have detected on blip and in conversations with friends (MrsM had one such this very day). I like the article's use of the word 'uncanny' in this highly unusual context - that captures exactly the combination of haunting, threat and dread that has been among us

The Hebrew book of Genesis narrates the myth of the flood - visited upon humanity for corruption, violence and unrighteousness. When it is all over, the Creator signifies a promise that  it will not happen again by posting a rainbow in the sky. Sadly, I don't think the one in the extra is promising an end to uncanny summers

The main and extra show two opposing directions - east and west - close to sunset. Dazzling sunlight refracted through the finest possible drizzle to generate a spectacular, high double-rainbow. The main also shows the re-made (after fire) brewery stables, from which the last of the builders' scaffolding was removed while we were away, restoring our prized view west