Pictorial blethers

By blethers

Pestilence, and now flood ...

What next? I know there are people who are even now suffering the depredations of hosts of locusts, but I can't help feeling caterpillars innumerable, or perhaps frogs, are more likely in our neck of the wet woods. What a day! And as I'm writing this early, for me: it's still daylight and it's still foul and the one means that I can see the other in all its horror.

I'm just out of the shower, having decided, madly, to walk to the church and back to do the hymn recording for this week. (We're not having Sunday services in church, just yet - just said midweek ones.) Mr PB, with more sense and a digital recorder that doesn't like the wet, took the car, and was busy practising as I more or less waded up the drive. The huge trees round the church were thrashing about - did I mention that it's also a tad windy, windy enough for the ferries to have gone off? - and the leaves are already giving the ground an autumnal look.

Inside the church wasn't much better. (Ok - that's hyperbole. But it worries me more.) The photo doesn't really give you much of a clue, but the little thing in the foreground is the recorder, set up where we need it; I stand to the left about a metre away. The dark patch on the step to the left of it is a puddle; the wooden floor just to the right of that is covered in a slick of water; drips are plashing onto the stone bit of floor behind the recorder and a steady stream is flowing gently down the chancel arch beyond. The doorway on the extreme left leads to the tower, where untold torrents lie - or rather pour. It's all rather apocalyptic. 

One of the hymns was Eternal Father ... so if you're into that sort of thing you'll know that the sound effects will have been rather appropriate.

Strangely enough, this ridiculous outing has made today bearable. But if anyone mentions a heatwave somewhere to the south, I may have to kill them ...

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