We set out in a damp haze. Not quite as fine as a mist and not quite heavy enough to be rain. Sometimes, when the atmosphere is like this, you wonder how you get enough air to breath. You feel as if you ought to stick your head out of the top of the cloud every now and then and take a deep breath. Being near the top of the hill, quite often we can look out of the window and see the clouds moving through the valley below, where the beck is busy chuckling to itself as it hurries along, we can see both sides now, so to speak.
With no encouragement from the weather these last few days, it’s been a while since we’ve been all round the block – a bit over an hours walk – so as it wasn’t actually raining we decided to make the effort today. I don’t have to say any more really, do I? You’re right. As soon as we were just over half way the rain came down.
Almost at the halfway point there is a large sycamore tree – and yes, it is standing on it’s own and all the other stuff about sheltering under trees, but it hasn’t been struck by lightning yet and this was no thunder storm. So, as I have previously, when the choice is between definitely getting wet and the remote possibility of being killed by a thunderbolt, I opted to take the risk and stay dry.
When we reached the tree I found that we had fewer options than I had hoped for – so we carried on and we arrived home dripping wet.