There's some weather coming
One of the great pleasures of my location is the weather. We really "do" weather around here. Nestled in a valley, surrounded by rolling hills, not far from sea and mountain means that the weather can be ever changing and unpredictable. It is exhilarating to watch the weather coming towards us over the hills, I love to see it raining "over there" while my garden remains bathed in sunshine. We stayed snow free one day during winter and I was surprised to encounter several inches 1/4 of a mile away in the village. I spend a surprising amount of time watching the skies and although I have grown better at reading the skies above me, my washing still gets soaked on a regular basis.
The weather has been especially mixed of late. Long, dry and warm days are punctuated by days when the skies grow dark and heavy, blackened by rain clouds. The colours on these days can be astounding. Once in a while those dark and threatening skies are pierced by bright sunlight, the crisp, sharp shafts of which cast brilliant highlights, colours seem forced and surreal.
There has been wind too, strong gales yesterday and wonderful drying breezes today.
The wind scatters the petals of my precious roses and litters the garden with tiny windfall apples.
Tilly gathers up the debris and deposits her treasures on the nature table, the garden equivalent of beach combing perhaps. I was struck by the glorious contrast of the red and green, against the grey of the day the colours seem heightened, as if they have been digitally manipulated, but there is no computer cleverness here, just the weather.
One of the great pleasures of my location is the weather. We really "do" weather around here. Nestled in a valley, surrounded by rolling hills, not far from sea and mountain means that the weather can be ever changing and unpredictable. It is exhilarating to watch the weather coming towards us over the hills, I love to see it raining "over there" while my garden remains bathed in sunshine. We stayed snow free one day during winter and I was surprised to encounter several inches 1/4 of a mile away in the village. I spend a surprising amount of time watching the skies and although I have grown better at reading the skies above me, my washing still gets soaked on a regular basis.
The weather has been especially mixed of late. Long, dry and warm days are punctuated by days when the skies grow dark and heavy, blackened by rain clouds. The colours on these days can be astounding. Once in a while those dark and threatening skies are pierced by bright sunlight, the crisp, sharp shafts of which cast brilliant highlights, colours seem forced and surreal.
There has been wind too, strong gales yesterday and wonderful drying breezes today.
The wind scatters the petals of my precious roses and litters the garden with tiny windfall apples.
Tilly gathers up the debris and deposits her treasures on the nature table, the garden equivalent of beach combing perhaps. I was struck by the glorious contrast of the red and green, against the grey of the day the colours seem heightened, as if they have been digitally manipulated, but there is no computer cleverness here, just the weather.
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