Gloomy. Cold. Wet. Take your pick of epithets to apply to the afternoon on which Jackie, after purchasing provisions at Ferndene Farm Shop, drove me, listening to rain pattering on the windscreen and the rhythm of the wipers’ whirling arms, into the forest until turning back for home when we had had enough.
Or select all three. It was not only the enticing aroma of fresh bread emanating from the back seat that made us look forward to this evening’s wholesome chicken and vegetable stewp.
The slalom that is Jackie’s course around potholes in our roads and lanes currently begins outside our front drive.
I stepped out on Burley Road to face the piercing raindrops for the benefit of our readers.
Ripples skimmed across the surface of pools filled after all our recent rain. A car hubcap, having rolled down a slope, was now waterlogged.
Against forbidding skies writhed skeletal branches, some of which
rose from the water.
I wondered how many more springs this degenerating stump would see. At least the grass it feeds, like mossy roots
added a touch of green to the day.
Attentive readers will already know what we had for dinner this evening. Its creator photographed it. With the meal I drank Paarl Shiraz 2022, and Jackie drank Hoegaarden.