Nature Diary. Sunday in England.

A grey day on the south coast, with rain all day accompanied by an icy cold, powerful wind. 
A very noisy setting when tested daringly through a briefly opened then rapidly closed door.
The wind was wild, the rain hammered non-stop against he windows, and the world outside was an uninviting dirty-looking grey. 
The dirty grey colour of the sea merged impeccably with that of the sky, like there was no end to the planet just a greyness for all life to disappear into forever.
   The force of the wind playing ''catch me if you can" was whipping up the sea water into piles of foam which then splerged magically over the cliff edges and covered the hedges and the grass with it's likeness, while at home rainwater dripped rhythmically out of the over-flooded roof gutters.
     Still... There's always tomorrow...