Life, crafty stuff, long walks, thoughts, and little oddities.


Wet rain and a soggy dog

A wet day. Rain drips down from the clouds, a seemingly endless supply. Clear skies over the mountains hint at better things to come. But the damp dawn sulks its way into mid-morning. The dog is waiting for her walk. Across the playing field we go. A boring green expanse becomes an exciting playground. Full of different sounds and smells. Tail wagging, ears twitching. Head turns at my call. Back on the lead to turn down the hill. Pavements, it seems, have an endless fascination. ‘I wonder who passed by there?’ – You can almost see the thought. Round the steep bit and on to the old mill. A brief stop at the paper-shop to buy the newspaper. A patient dog waits outside, greeting the passers-by. Then onwards, along by the side of the stream. Splashing in the puddles. Up through the old orchard. She covers twice the distance , bounding about. A slow progress along the road, then back through the playing field. Pausing to chase the ball. Returning to base, we sit by the heater in the summer-house, drying out. I check emails. She tries to read them. Then, bored, she falls to sleep across my toes. A successful morning.


NB For those who are wondering – no, I haven’t acquired a dog! Back in North Wales for a month, house and dog-sitting for friends while they visit Australia.


Muddy boots and dunnocks

tractor path

The wet and the tractors have combined to make a morass of the lane. Mud up to my ankles. My boots are released from its embrace with a loud squelch. The puddles have joined together into a stream, running down the grassy centre. In the hedgerows, the dunnocks flit from branch to branch, a gossiping bunch. The clouds gather over the horizon, and head my way. Sunshine and rain combine to give glorious rainbows and soggy hat. Climbing up the hill, the full force of the squall hits head on, before ceasing abruptly. Fields spread out before me, last years golden stubble poking through the new growth. Across the ancient stone bridge. The usual trickle has become a torrent, roaring its way down to the sea. Then round the bend and on to the road. Potholes overflowing. Raindrops slowly begin their dance on the surface. In the shelter of a far hedge, a flash of white catches my eye. Two deer, sheltering from the onslaught. The sun emerges from behind the clouds again, and the deer lift their heads in greeting. I turn the next corner. Ahead lies the sea, a shimmering mass of light. Homeward bound.

deer in field


Bluebells and rain

It poured down today. Then came a small  break in the cloud. Tired of the weather, I scrabble into waterproofs and head outside. Next door’s gutter is overflowing, a torrent flooding on to the  yard. Further along, the stream is in full spate, swollen and rolling brown. Puddles overflow on to the road, the breeze creating a miniature tidal wave. The wind stirs again and the rain returns, blowing spray at my back, soaking me from head to toe. I head rapidly homewards accompanied by the steady drum of sound. Glum. Until there, at the side of the door, I spot them. The first green shoots of bluebells are fighting their way upwards against the winter. A smile on my face, I go indoors. To sit and watch the promise of spring, soaking in the rain.

Bluebell shoots


Bemused cows and serene gulls

muddied stream

While the sun shines, I break free from the house. After a night of rain, the street is washed clean, puddles lying at the edges. The grass on the verges squelches under my feet, mud oozing over my boots. I stroll along the road, idly watching the world pass by. The drainage ditch is overflowing. A new pond has formed in the field over the stone wall. The sea-birds seem to have migrated over from the seashore. I stand and watch as the oyster-catchers paddle in the edge, and the curlews peck at the soil.  The gulls float serenely on the pool. The cows seem a little bemused by their company, stood staring from the edges of the field. They seem to be having a soggy time, green shoots muddied by their feet. The stream churns through the field, stirring up the mud on its way to the sea.




Raindrops and fairies



Rain beating on windows

Calling for attention

Gutters over-flowing

In joy at being used

Flowery wellingtons

Rainbow coloured umbrella

Bright red raincoat

Waterproof trousers

All dressed up

Stomping in and out of the pools

Watching the raindrops dance

Like fairies across the surface


Sleet and baubles

christmas tree

Face peeping out on the world, the only part exposed to the elements. Yesterday’s sun is replaced by cold and damp. Rain and sleet hurled on a northerly wind. The tide roars in, splashing over onto the road. A mad dash to the post office through a grey world. The gutters pour with water, and the puddles are ringed with raindrops. Then, task complete, blown back along the pavement to the warmth of home. A gradual defrosting of limbs on the radiator. A mug of tea. The Christmas tree stands, waiting impatiently. Slowly the decorations are unpacked, each one with a story to be told. Rainbow colours of memory sparkle amidst the green, a bright spot in the day.

For a Christmas Tree Blessing, see this link: http://faithinthehome.wordpress.com/2012/12/20/christmas-tree-blessing/


Floods and moths

Off into the dark. The day’s wet has flooded the ditches and the road is awash with water. Great spumes fountain up as we drive through the puddles. In the headlights the rain sparkles like silver as it cascades down. Suicidal moths hurtle themselves towards the light. A patch of freezing fog swirls around the car. Welcoming lights shine on the hill-tops as we pass. Green eyes glow in the dark, then blink away. A rabbit? Few others are out and about this night. Home beckons as we journey on.