Tuesday, 8 December 2009


Chilling news at the weekend when it was reported that Britain saw an average rainfall of 184% in November. Sadly, we all know where the trouble spots were and what wreckage ensued for the people living there, but I would be interested to know what the highest measurements in that study were.

Far South, we have come off lightly. Having said that, I have never seen so many coats dripping over the bath or in the hallway or so many wet shoes in a row by the radiator since I was a child. I don't ever remember looking out at the rain like this every day, hoping for a break in the deluge so I can dash to the post box or to the station.

At the point of not being able to stand being stuck indoors a moment longer, I've taken many walks in the rain along the deserted beach in recent weeks, coming home to add my coat to the dripping collection. However, this morning was bright and blue and so I went for a beach walk without a raincoat on and was able to sit in the sun and do my writing for a couple of hours of bliss. Warm enough, too without hat or gloves.

The high tides have thrown many weeds to shore that I've never seen here before and some of the colours have been startling, especially on those dark days when I was walking in the half blind of driving spray.

The following shot - sorry can't get the focus any better - reminded me of cranberry colours and rich darks of old wood. And look at those those inky blues.

So this is where I sat today, in the glare of a precious morning. What I like best of all - writing somewhere outdoors and interesting. Happy happy happy.

As I turned to leave and come home for lunch and work, I thought I saw the best bit. I just love these shadows from the promenade railings.

And as I packed my notebook and pen and camera away into my bag, I saw the notice on the bench that I had been leaning back on -

Now, just a few hours later, no surprises that it's throwing it down with rain again. But in terms of being a good day, I would give today more than 184%.