Rainy day

Warm, but raining hard with the occasional clap of gratuitous thunder. And thems as know say it'll be doing the same all week. 

Wave ta-ta to hay-making, bid adieu to raspberry-picking and send a permanent good-bye to the basil as it falls prey to an army of damp-loving slugs. Say hello to permanently wet laundry, buongiorno to muddy wellies, and ciao to those pretty little fungal blooms in the corner of the sitting room where the village well used to be. 

I love the sound of it, though, on the great stone roof. I love to sit at our highest window up under the eaves and watch the woods deepen in colour. I love to see the sheets of rain range across the silver lake. And I love it when Carmine is enveloped in cloud, and there's nothing in the world beyond me and the ancient stone.