This morning I ventured outside, for a brief walk.The noise started in our trees, unusual, loud and shrill. Screaming from the rooftops of our neighbours’ homes, through the tall trees still standing, then suddenly it arrived,
Hail, freezingly cold, sharp and lingering for some time. The temperature dropped, and it has stayed coolish all day.The fire is lit, we are cosy and warm, and as these words say, from Robert Browning,
from Pippa Passes
The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hillside's dew-pearled;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn:
God's in His heaven—
All's right with the world!
Hugh’s vege garden, with pipes, bird netting and hail on the newly composted beds
This bearded Iris is sheltered under a tree, but was still battered.
The lonely single Californian Poppy drooped its head to shelter those petals, there are more to flower another day.
No better place to be all night and most of the morning, a fleece rug on the settee, warmth from the fire overnight, and breakfast waiting in the kitchen. Security and comfort.
Quotation of the day, author unknown
“ Whether it is or whether it isn’t,
the weather will be whatever it is that day”
Greetings from Jean