Tag: rain

Walking in summer rain

I walk on,

aware of grey storm clouds

gathering,

darkening,

first few spots of rain.

The estuary beckons.

I walk on.

–

The clouds open,

rain pounding on my

waterproof jacket,

pouring streams down

my legs, drenching

my cotton trousers,

filling my shoes.

I walk on,

the estuary misty

shades of silver.

–

For the raindrops

bouncing off my head,

running down my legs,

I am simply a detour

between the clouds

and the sea.

–

I walk home,

feet surprisingly warm

as my body heats

the rain in my shoes.

–

This is what it is

to be

alive.

A walk in the rain

Ghostly pine trees,

hilltops lost in mist,

lake reflecting grey.

Drizzle,

then rain in sheets

scudding across the water.

Sweating in waterproofs

with leaky boots,

step by step

we are rinsed,

refreshed,

washed clean,

revitalised.

Out in the rain

Its been a week of grey, dreich weather and I’ve not been outside enough.  I’d been on a few short damp walks around the lanes and down to the estuary, but I was starting to get that feeling….too much time indoors, not enough exercise. A sort of ‘meh’ feeling.  That way when I can’t really be bothered to do anything, even though I’ve got 2 weeks off work and could do all those things I don’t have much time to do…paint, read, cook, tidy up the house, tai chi….but no, instead I was definitely mooching around aimlessly, spending a lot of time doing not much.

So I took myself off to a nearby nature reserve, Leighton Moss, and spent a happy, damp two hours walking through the reedbeds and watching the birds.  I saw lots of pintail; elegant chocolate, cream and black ducks,  one of my favourites.  And plenty of shoveller, teal, tufted duck and egrets.  Heard a strange whistling sound from all directions  and realised it was teal talking to each other. 

 And then small groups of starlings started appearing from all directions, flocking together, zooming around the reserve gathering members until there were maybe 30,000 birds.  30,000!  After putting on an aerial display they disappeard down into the reedbeds for the night; safety in numbers while they sleep.

It was damp, drizzly and grey. The light levels were low.  It would have been ever so easy to stay indoors.  I’m so glad I didn’t.