We have had visitors this last couple of days – my old school pals who brought teabags (they don’t trust me after they ran out tea last time), wine and a mountain of cake, but this year forgot to bring their own sunshine – despite ample warning on the blog that St Swithin was on the warpath.
This somewhat curtailed our walking activities, although possibly enhanced the talking ones, as we caught up, and commenced setting the world to rights over a period of 24 hours. You know it’s summer in Scotland when you have both the barbecue going and the woodburning stove.
We did take the time to visit some local art.
Although it wasn’t always clear what part of it was art and what not.
A lost hat?
A cheeky fern?
A fingerpost that was gradually blending itself into the landscape?
There was more actual rather than incidental art to see, but it involved a six-mile walk through some extremely changeable* weather. And even when it wasn’t raining, the vegetation and ground was saturated enough that we got soaked anyway, just by osmosis.
Now that they have gone, the rain has stopped and we have suddenly got another fine evening. They didn’t believe me that on a clear day you can see the English hills from here. They’ll have to come back and experience that for themselves.
* as in changing from ‘wet’ to ‘very wet’