We woke to rain again this morning. When I say ‘rain’, it fails to convey the force of nature that it is here. It patters on the leaves, it dreeps from the gutters, the wind hurls it against the windows in pellet form, and the trees release water bombs that explode on the balcony.
It was around 11:30 when – “Hey!” I said. “Sun’s out!”
“That’s not sun, it’s lightning,” said Husband.
“Let’s do something. We’ve had no exercise for over a week.”
(Australian food still prowls my digestive tract on a round trip to my hips.)
“We could walk up to Scenic Drive,” suggested Husband.
“Ah now come on, that’s barely beyond the postbox. Wouldn’t raise a pant, never mind a sweat. Let’s go to the top of the hill.”
“Why?”
“For the view.”
“But it’s raining!”
“Be hardy.”
We set off fully equipped for the weather. In other words, I had a waterproof jacket and Husband an umbrella.
The creek by the drive is in full flow. A stream has taken out the corner of the road by the neighbour’s drive. About half a kilometre from the house, the rain picked up again.
We got wet.
Note the shrinking hips, cause: exercise or damp (undetermined)
Mr Poppins
Kauri leaves, illuminated by sunshine. Or it could be lightning
