A Sense of the Surreal

The weather has settled into an interesting pattern this week: murky, cool mornings clearing to bright, warm afternoons, then building into evening displays of dramatic cumulonimbus. 

Come mid-afternoon, I'd torn myself away from the writing for a short run on the moor, only for it to turn into a very long walk as I became seduced by the towering cloud formations. Back home, photography sorted, I was sitting on my bed, head back in my notebook, when I noticed this happening outside. The shot was taken out of the window. I've lost a lot of time to cloud-watching these last few days. 

It wasn't just the sky that was surreal. This was the day when a talented young professional footballer showed the government how to do its job. The suspicion was confirmed that there are no longer even any tactics, let alone any strategy in their handling of this crisis. I was going to say that I wouldn't want to trust this bunch of ministers with organising a children's birthday party, but actually I'd like to see them try - for the fun of watching the inevitable nightmare that would ensue. As long as it wasn't my kid's party. God help us.