Rainy Day

Into each life some rain must fall’ as written by Longfellow, and today was the day when the rain fell with a vengeance, physically not metaphorically. I looked out of the window at 6am to see wind, mist and rain. I checked the weather forecast on my phone- grim reading.  By 8am it was still grim reading. 
I swithered about going to the slip and being wet before I even got near the water but still…… the tide was high and with a west wind off shore the sea was not looking too rough. I swithered some more- people with cars were pulling out but at the last moment the rain seemed to ease a little  and I went.
 In the end 4 other Selkies arrived and it was great to be bounced about on the waves while the rain fell on our heads. It wasn’t quite so great to get dressed in the wet but I was very  grateful to get a lift home looking and feeling like a drowned rat.

I spent the morning watching the rain and crocheting, the dark art as another knitter described it. Eventually about lunch time the weather improved enough to walk down the street and buy some biscuits. People were beginning to emerge from the woodwork as the saying goes and suddenly it was a better day. I had a long chat with the lady behind the counter in the Quernstone and it was she who likened crocheting to the Dark Art. I like that description.

I am sashaying forth a little later to attend an event in Kirkwall, part of the St Magnus Festival when Jen Stout a writer is in conversation with Alasdair Nicolson with tales from her book ‘Night Train to Odesa’ covering the human cost of Russian aggression. I hope it’s not too depressing.