After what seems like several days of almost continuous heavy rain, yesterday was dry, clear and in the morning even sunny. In the field behind our house, a flock of gulls alternately settled on the strip where the farmer had been muck-spreading or wheeled frantically about before settling again; two crows ducked and dived, chasing each other at great speed (rivals or lovers I wondered?) and a trio of long-tailed tits bounced about in the hedgerow.
So yes – a beautiful day.
Naturally, I opted to go out for a walk today.
The mist had descended, any hope of a view had disappeared and a fine drizzle seemed to hang in the air waiting to find somebody to soak. I believe that the Scots call a day of this kind dreish or something of the kind.
Still, when nothing further than the next field boundary can be seen, we’re forced to focus a little more carefully on those things in our immediate vicinity. Each twig had a silvery drop building to a fall; fallen leaves, bark, stones and fungi had a sheen provided by the damp; and on dull days the greens of moss, holly and ferns are somehow more green than when the sun shines.
I took a tour around Eaves Wood, looking for a green flower that I thought I remembered finding here at this time of year before. But perhaps not this early, because I didn’t find it today. This is, in part, the reason for the Blog because hopefully next year I will have a record of when and where to look through the course of the year.