A September day in mid August. Sparkly, dew-sodden grass and my feet and legs were drenched within five minutes of setting off this morning - wading through the shoulder high ferns was the equivalent of going through the car-wash. Dried out soon enough in the warm breeze.
As I shut a gate on my way up the hill a solitary yellow leaf fluttered to the ground and the birch and oaks are already beginning to turn.
But it was the clouds that drew the eye,layer upon layer, huge, white dollops on the horizon, thin and whispy overhead and, beneath them, white and grey puffballs moving across the sky, constantly changing shape.
Finished The Help. Excellent, thought-provoking read.
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